


Wounded Dreams and Nightmares

by Goldenpetal13



Series: Dreams and Nightmares [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Angst, Dream!Pack, Dubious Consent, M/M, Magic is now a thing, Non-Con (mostly in past), Special Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-11-26 08:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 50
Words: 83,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldenpetal13/pseuds/Goldenpetal13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU – Starts at the beginning of January, with Stiles and Peter at the end of their honeymoon, just a few more days and they’ll be home in time for Stiles to go back to school. Life is good, and with no more Sheriff or Judge, Stiles is looking forward to being married and living with Peter as his husband.  What could possibly go wrong now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rules changes of this AU. Sixteen is both the age of consent and the age kid’s are legally considered adults though most stay in high school until eighteen before going to college.
> 
> Rated M
> 
> Warnings: Non con (mostly in the past), dub-con (Stiles is more accepting of Peter, though I have left the rape/non-con warning up to be on the safe side), domestic violence (in the past), drug use (special and linked to the dub-con in a sexual manner), abusive relationships, excess angst, show level violence and death, thin plot (squint and it might be there), generally being evil to Stiles. Oh and both Peter and Stiles will go OOC as they attempt to get along with each other (plus the traumas Stiles has gone through have changed him)
> 
> Don’t like don’t read, though constructive criticism is always welcome (plus any reviews). 
> 
> I own nothing, literally.

Splashing in the giant tub I gaze out over Central Park.  Seriously this penthouse suite that Peter’s picked for us is awesome, it literally takes up the whole of the top floor of the hotel and we have panoramic views of New York.

 

As we’re on the edge of Central Park, that means I can see that too, or I would be able to if it wasn’t so dark.  But there are still lights out there and I lounge in the hot water and gaze out over the bustling city.

 

Tonight we’re going to the theatre.

 

Which means I have to dress up.

 

Peter’s already rummaged in my side of the wardrobe and put things on the bed for me, I have to wear a suit and look smart and grown up.  He wants to see the musical Chicago, and I’ve seen the film so it should be good.

 

Wallowing in the bath I hum to myself and grin.  God this honeymoon slash Christmas slash New Year thing has been a blast.  We’ve done so much, including Peter hitting the sales, I swear we’ll have to build that scary basement, that the towns used to think he had, just so we can fill it with all his new clothes.  I spent the time he was shopping in an awesome cinema and caught up on films, and I may have dived into to some video game shops too.

 

We’ve done tonnes of stuff, the horse drawn carriage through Central Park was cool, the museums and galleries are fantastic.  I’ve seen the Statue of Liberty, and gotten the t-shirt. At the Empire State Building there was a jazz band playing romantic songs, and we danced, and ate, and then came back to the hotel to make out on the bed.  I’ve been to nightclubs, I’m too young to be in, and danced until I dropped.  And I’ve still barely scratched the surface of this vibrant city.

 

Peter’s promised we can come back often.

 

Plus we might try some other hotels out, though I like this one, we even have a chauffeur to take us places if we don’t feel like walking, or taking a tube.  Oh and we have a fucking butler, the guy is polite and so professional I feel like Bruce Wayne, and I can’t believe the main guy who’s here is called Alfred, though not Pennyworth.  I can work with that though, and Peter’s mentioned that I tend to behave if Alfred or one of the other butlers is here.

 

“Stiles,” Peter calls out from the other room and I scowl because that means I have to get out of the awesome bath.

 

Pulling the plug I heave myself up and out of the water.  Drying off I yell, “Hey is anyone but us in the penthouse?”  Seriously I can ask if anyone is in the penthouse, how cool is that!

 

“No,” is his answer so I put the towel on the rail and streak through the suite to the bedroom area. 

 

The suite is built like a square or diamond around the main bank of elevators, of which we have a specialised one just for us, none of this sharing with others crap.  And the bedroom is adjacent to the bathroom so I don’t have to streak far.

 

Jumping on the giant bouncy bed, I whoop, and manage to stop myself making a total ass of myself, by not falling off the other side, and I grin at Peter who’s adjusting his cufflinks.

 

The thing about werewolves is that they all have fab abs, and I don’t, being the weedy human boy, but Peter makes me feel good about being me.  His eyes roam and like what they see, when we make out he’s careful how his hands roam so as not to scare me, and yet, he makes me feel like I’m desirable.

 

If nothing else since I met him again in Sacramento he’s never once made me feel unwanted, or like I’m lesser than him, okay so he’s an arrogant vain asshole, but that’s just Peter with everyone, and he tries hard not to do that with me.

 

His eyes are on me and they caress me, because that is a thing too, and his lips quirk, “Interesting fashion statement you’re going for Stiles.”

 

Stretching out on the bed I smirk, “Haven’t you heard, of husband of mine,” Because I can tease him a little, “This,” I wave a hand down naked me, “Is the new Honeymoon style this year.”

 

He huffs a laugh and I count it as a win, I like making him happy like this.  First it was out of self defence, but now because it gives me a sense of achievement.

 

Picking up the clothes he’s put out for me I get dressed and then we’re ready to go.  The chauffeur is waiting for us, the show is awesome and I remember enough of the words I can sing along under my breath, we get driven back to the hotel afterwards and we stop off in the restaurant.

 

And the place has trees growing in it, and the food is that weird crap that’s fancy and expensive but is mostly annoying.  We had a big lunch anyway so I’m not that hungry and food service is good if I feel peckish later.

 

Holding Peter’s hand all the way up the elevator I bounce into our suite and after some teeth brushing and peeing we go to bed.  I strip off way faster than Peter and clamber into the soft bed, it would play havoc with my back in the long term, but short term the bed is so comfy.

 

I get to see all those long lithe lines of Peter’s body be unwrapped and the spark of desire lazily spirals through me.  Since we’ve stopped having sex, I’m getting more and more interested in him physically, and I see him sniff the air and the damn peacock preens at knowing I’m as turned on as I can get at the moment.

 

He slides into bed and crowds up against me, naked skin to naked skin and I shiver in a good way.  “Stiles,” his voice is husky and we start to kiss as he pushes me down and pins me.  This should freak me out but I’m learning to accept Peter, to know and trust that he will back off when it gets too much for me. 

 

Our kisses are sweet and we’ve only recently started French kissing so I open my mouth to encourage him and he’s soon sweeping his tongue into my mouth, and fucking hell, the man knows what he’s doing.

 

I’m quickly reduced to trying to remember to breathe and arching into his body, his leg slides between mine and I freeze, so Peter instantly stops and pulls back, “It’s okay,” I mutter and pull him closer, I control how his leg rests between mine and little Peter, well not so little Peter jabs me in the gut but then little Stiles is kind of at half mast so I laugh, “Dude, I’m totally getting a partial erection here.”

 

His face softens, “So you are, what a clever little Stiles you are,” his mouth noses at my neck so I move to give him access, “Brave, strong, smart, perfect, amazing,” he peppers kisses over me and then sucks on my neck and whispers, “Awesome,” so I laugh at his antics and the tension is gone.

 

“Sleep,” he kisses my forehead and we shuffle around so he’s welded to my back and I’m pinned there by his arm.

 

Yawning I drift off to sleep, we have a few more days here and then we go home to start our new domesticated lives together.  Peter snuffles into the nape of my neck and I’m happy.  Things are going well between us, I’m starting to heal from everything that Brad and Oren did to me, and I’m hopeful that everything in my life is going to be good.

 

Dad hasn’t replied to the video message we sent to him, or to the video we sent him of our wedding, but I have my fingers crossed that we’re starting to build the foundations of communicating again.

 

A stray thought crosses my mind, Danny’s Facebook page said that Jackson had been kicked out of his own home and the Whittemores were even thinking about getting the adoption undone.  Danny is too nice for his own good, because he’s let the douchebag move in with him and his folks, Jackson is a dick that’s finally getting what he deserves.  And I let sleep take me as I imagine Jackson sleeping rough for a few days, before Derek would have taken him in, because Derek is a good Alpha and wouldn’t have let him stay homeless if Danny hadn’t taken Jackson in like a stray lizard-puppy.


	2. Chapter 2

Someone is kissing my ear and I wiggle, “Peter,” I get flipped onto my back and I laugh as he smiles down at me, “Morning honey,” I greet him, strangely he’s okay with that endearment, I think it’s because I’m still acknowledging the Relationship, and because he says I smell happy.

 

“Darling,” he greets me back, “What would you like to do today?”

 

Shrugging I tell him the truth, “I have no idea, wanna go for a walk?  I liked Central Park,” well Central Parked liked me too, I could feel the land and the water and the air, and weirdly I could feel the city too, though it was made up of metal and lightning.

 

“Hmm, I liked Central Park too,” he agrees, “Then perhaps we can do a tour or we could go to a special second hand bookstore,” he dangles the suggestion and I look surprised, “It’s not quite like the one in Salt Lake City, but they have literally miles of books, both new and used, and a whole department for rare first editions,” I can almost see the collector in him sitting up and wagging its tail.

 

“Okay, we’ll go hit the bookstore after lunch,” and that sounds like a nice lazy plan for today, some fresh air followed by losing myself in a world someone else made, a world with a happy ending.  “Maybe we can pick up some more books for our bookshelves, and I can read them to you on a Sunday when we go for our picnics in the forest at home.”

 

If anything he gets happier and I’m given free rein on picking my clothes for today.  We order breakfast and Alfred wheels in the food for us.  I’m on my best behaviour and use my table manners, I ignore the little smirk that hovers on Peter’s lips.

 

Our walk in Central Park is great, we stroll and take our time, I might be wearing gloves because it is frigging cold, but we still hold hands, I notice it’s always my right to his left, the same as our mating marks.

 

We sit on a bench and just gaze out on this tiny little oasis in the middle of a sprawling bustling city and I relax something in my head that lets me see flickers of colours when I close my eyes.  Richard says this is something he can do at will, and something I can learn to do, to see the auras of the world around me.

 

Peter flickers in and out of sight, that familiar twisted red energy that pulses and wraps itself around my own warm bright light.  The park itself is made up of greens and browns and, in the distance, blues.  The city is a dull brown in the background, sluggish and not really alive like the park, sparks of electricity cascade around it, interspaced inside it are the colours of the wildlife living there and the normal butter yellow of the humans bustling around.  I have no idea why humans are yellow but they are and they don’t glow as brightly as I do, occasionally I can see someone who’s wrong, their yellow is tangled up and twisted like Peter and it’s a stained dirty type of yellow, and sometimes I can see weird crap around others, but I don’t know what those mean yet.

 

And the park knows I’m here, it likes me and coloured tendrils reach out to touch me, it’s welcoming, loving, and then it’s gone again and I’m back to normal vision.

 

“Did you have fun?” Peter is watching me and I nod.

 

“Yeah, I did,” I sling my arm over his shoulders, “Thank you.”

 

“For what?” He cocks his head at me.

 

“Picking Wolf Creek for us to live in Peter, I have Richard to help me learn to see things, a brilliant school that actually pushes me, friends that want to hang out with me, and best of all, you,” I peck him on the cheek and stand up, “Let’s grab some food and then we can go indulge our mutual bibliophilic tendencies.”

 

“Deal,” he rises to his feet so smoothly with that werewolf grace of his, I’m still shocked people around us don’t know werewolves even exist.

 

Our food is good and the bookstore is heaven, Peter undersold this place, there are literally miles of books in this store.  And unlike Salt Lake City this place has a system.  I’m left to explore by myself and dream Isaac appears beside me, Scott and Allison are sitting on a couch cuddling, Boyd is headed towards the meditation section, Derek is checking out anything and everything, Lydia is doing her nails and Jackson is whining about going to the sports section.

 

With my dream Pack drifting in and out I walk aimlessly and then Erika is there grinning like a loon so I follow her to the graphic novel section and proceed to geek out.

 

My fellow human nerds are there too and at first we ignore each other, but once they realise that I am a nerd I’m welcomed in.  It isn’t until dream Derek coughs in my ear and whispers, “Peter’s headed his way,” that I realise I’ve been here for hours, and then he vanishes as that very familiar itch starts up.

 

I stand up from where I’ve been sitting cross-legged and arguing about Batman vs Superman, because seriously?  Batman will win, every single time, he’s too good not to, and Superman still underestimates him after all this time of them being friends.

 

Walking around the corner Peter seems relaxed but I know him enough to know he’s unhappy right now, the best way to cheer him up is usually to acknowledge him and us, “Hey honey, you found me.”

 

 

“Stiles,” his voice is warm and has that extra something that means he’s laying on the charm, and all the nerds around me glance between us.

 

“Dude, who’s that?” one of the nerds asks me, and points at Peter, a Peter who is now artfully posing against a bookshelf and doing his best ‘I just walked off the front cover of a magazine so bow down and worship me lowly mortal’ impression, and he’s pulling it off.

 

“Hmm?  Oh that’s Peter,” I pause deliberately, “My husband,” I pick up the small pile of graphic novels I want and tip them towards Peter, “Hey, which of these do you think I should get?”

 

Effortlessly he straightens up, and while I’m fairly sure most of the teens around me are straight, that doesn’t stop them staring at Peter, because Peter is very stare worthy.  “If you can’t make up your mind darling,” he purrs the words at me, “Get them all, you know I only want to make you happy,” now it’s his turn to pause, “Did you want to stop at the video game shop too?  I know you said there was a game you really, really wanted.” And he’s less unhappy if he’s being playful, though he’s showing off and I think he’s trying to see off the nerds off in case they turn out to be rivals to him.

 

“Holy crap,” the same nerd from earlier breathes, “How the hell do I get my hands on a babe like that?  And one that wants me to get video games…”  He gets elbowed by another of the group and stutters to a stop.

 

And Peter gets this gleam in his eye, “Well, it’s not my fault Stiles is so amazingly mind-blowing in bed,” and I’m suddenly the centre of attention.

 

“Now honey,” I admonish him, “You know it’s all you baby, and I’ll never, ever want anyone but you,” I remembered how jealous he turned out to be of the receptionist in Salt Lake City, and while Peter is generous with allowing me out and about I’ve been very careful to keep reassuring him, so that he’ll continue to trust me, and he loves little declarations like that.

 

“Good,” he finishes sauntering up to me, “I’ll never, ever want to share you,” he kisses me softly and then I’m being swept away.  I get one glance behind me and they’re all sitting there with slack jaws.  I manage to hold my laughter in until we’re far enough away they won’t hear us and then I collapse into Peter.

 

“Oh god Peter, you are so territorial, but did you see their faces?  Oh man that was funny,” I nuzzle into him as I’m holding my novels and can’t touch him with my hands.

 

“I’m glad you liked it,” he doesn’t seem too upset and even buys all of the graphic novels for me.

 

Escorting me out he holds the door for me and then I hold my hand out to him, he takes it with a gentle squeeze and he tells me he’s thinking we could go back to the hotel to drop off my purchases before we hit the town for dinner, he knows I’m not impressed with the hotel’s restaurant’s evening meals, that stuff is weird.

 

Dream Isaac pops into view just down the road and he’s waving his arms to get my attention, “Stiles, hurry!” And then he runs off towards the subway system and down under the street.

 

Not thinking about it I tug on Peter’s hand and pull him along with me as I chase after Isaac.  It isn’t until we’re at the gates I notice that Peter’s buying tickets and not questioning me about what I’m up to.  He takes the bag with the graphic novels in and points down through the gates, “After you Stiles,” and I can see Isaac dancing in a circle waiting for me.

 

I’m careful to grab Peter’s free hand and then I’m off again.


	3. Chapter 3

Dream Isaac leads me down onto the subway platform, and with Peter so close Isaac has to keep ducking behind the pillars, and the people, and it’s hard to hear him over the noise.

 

I get on the train and drag Peter with me.  The carriage is crowded and I anxiously look about for Isaac as we near each station.  I don’t spot him but I do spot other members of the Pack and they’re urging me to stay on.

 

Finally Isaac appears again and he’s beckoning me off at a platform near the end of the line.  I jump off and hurry up the stairs to the exit, Peter sticks by my side and in the growing dusk, damn you winter and shorter daylight hours, I lose sight of Isaac.

 

We’re on a corner and I have no idea which way to go now.

 

“Aw crap,” I bounce on the spot and Jackson is lounging against a window on the opposite side of the street, the window is misted up and someone’s written, ‘North four blocks’.

 

“Which way’s North?” I mutter.

 

“That way,” Peter nods up one of the streets.

 

“Thank you,” I set off at a jog up the street Peter indicated and hope I can see Isaac soon.  I don’t and I count down the blocks until I get to four.  And then I look around again to see Boyd standing by a van, he’s blocking some of the lettering and all I can see is ‘EAST’, he holds up his hand showing off all his fingers and his thumb, so I assume five and he nods.

 

“East,” I mutter and Peter nods in the right direction. As we jog down the sidewalk the buildings are becoming less welcoming and while we aren’t in a very bad part of town, we aren’t in the best part either.  I’m glad I have an Alpha werewolf by my side and tighten my grip on him.

 

We pass the third block and are rapidly getting to the end of four.  As we start on five I can see Isaac jumping up and down and pointing down to a vehicle on the street up ahead but I can’t see what it is yet.

 

It turns out to be a small rent a van, and I stand there baffled as to why Isaac lead me here when a scruffy looking young man comes out of the apartment block, he’s manhandling what looks like a giant canvas, I can only see the back of it so I have no idea what the painting is.

 

The Pack are hiding behind the van and are yelling that I need to talk to this guy, clearing my throat I try to get his attention, “Um, hey?”

 

“Wha?” The guy stumbles on the steps and turns, which turns the painting and I glance at it to see, well, the sea, or the ocean, and it’s like I’m really seeing the water and the swells, it’s so lifelike that I gasp and when I breathe in I expect to smell the salt air but I get a lungful of New York instead.

 

“Did you paint that?” I point at the painting.

 

“Err, yeah?  Do you want it? Twenty bucks,” the man says and I take a longer look at him, at the pinched starved look on his face, the dirty blond hair I thought was brown, the scruffy and patched clothes even good will would refuse.  He’s not only down on his luck, somehow, I know this is almost the end of the line for him.

 

“No,” Peter says and if anything the young man’s face gets more despondent as if twenty bucks was something amazing, “That’s too cheap, a painting like that is worth far more.  Please tell me you don’t have an agent, please tell me you’re willing to exhibit your art and that you have more of that grade of painting.”

 

“Err, yeah, in the van,” he staggers as he tries to hold the painting up and point at the van, “It’s part of a set…” And then Peter is bounding up to him and pulling the painting from him.

 

“Perfect, my name is Peter Stilinski and I would like to introduce you to an art agent that is capable of handling your level of talent and making the art world notice you,” being a werewolf Peter easily holds the painting in one hand and holds the other one out.

 

“Really?” The guy looks like Peter just smacked him with a two by four over the head and gives a vague handshake.

 

“Really,” Peter nods, “Let me put this by the van and then we’ll talk,” he carries the canvas reverently and is careful how he loads it.

 

Getting my breath back fully I listen in as Peter talks the guy, whose name is Zach, into giving him a chance and then Peter is on the phone to an art gallery as Zach blinks in shock.

 

Within an hour the art gallery is here with their own van and the manager of the gallery is examining all the paintings, and they are as large and as good as the first one.  Each of them is about an element or type of nature.  There’s fire, earth and air to compliment the water one we’ve already seen, but there is also forest, plains, stream, thunderstorm, mountain and snow.

 

To say the art gallery manager is excited is a major understatement he’s practically wetting himself at the thought of getting his hands on these paintings, and then Zach mentions he has five more and the guy nearly faints.

 

In the end we have to call for the chauffer to come and pick us up, Peter’s paying for Zach to stay in our hotel, though not in the penthouse.  Zach is a bit iffy about sharing our ride and I do not blame him, but the chauffer’s uniform seems to help and I think Zach’s too tired to keep fighting anymore, his butter yellow aura flickers into view and it’s so faded it’s almost not there anymore.

 

Reaching the hotel, Peter makes sure that Zach has his own room, and that the bill will be given to and paid for by Peter.  Including any room service which Peter makes sure Zach knows he will be using or else.

 

It’s not until we step into our own room that Peter grabs me in a very unexpected hug and spins us in circles, “Stiles, you are the most amazing and awesome mate, so clever, so brilliant.”

 

“Dude,” I laugh and let him dance us around, “You’re happy.”

 

“I am incredibly happy Stiles, you have just found a painter that is worth millions, his first set of paintings won’t sell for anything less than a quarter of a million each, and we now have a share of that bounty, a bounty he will gladly hand over to us with extreme gratitude for discovering him,” Peter buries his face in my neck and I feel the scrape of his teeth on my skin, “Inevitably he will turn on us, but until then we can milk him again and again, not only for the paintings themselves but the numerous prints we can sell too.”

 

“Yay?” I’m assuming that’s all a good thing.

 

He puts me down and stares into my eyes, “Very, very yay,” his hands cup my face and he kisses me tenderly.

 

“Awesome,” I kiss him back, and then I get spoilt.

 

Peter makes sure I get curly fries for dinner, I get to splash about in the giant tub again, and then I get the foot rub from heaven for a good hour, he has to spoon me into bed I’m that relaxed, overcooked noodles have nothing on me.  I’m asleep before my head even hits the pillow.

 

*

 

Peter’s just as cuddly and over the top the next day, I seem to have netted us a lot of money and I know I shouldn’t ask but I do, “Um, you didn’t even ask me what I was doing yesterday, you just followed me and helped with the directions when I got lost…”

 

We’re curled up on one of the sofas in our suite and he snuggles into my side, “Stiles, as you pointed out, you didn’t run from me in Salt Lake City, and everything you’ve done since we became boyfriends and fiancés, has strengthened us, I might not understand your actions at the time, but I do trust you,” and that hits me in the solar plexus, “I really don’t understand the way you hunt, but the prey you hunted down yesterday was succulent and will sustain us for a long time,” and he’s back with the wolfy side of things, “My beautiful raven child, you are testing your wings and soon I’ll have trouble keeping up with you.”

 

I snort at that, “No Peter, you’re way faster than me,” but I’m ridiculously pleased at his simple acceptance of me and his trust.

 

“Only for now Stiles, only for now,” he sniffs my neck and I expose it to him, rumbling at me he nuzzles the skin gently, “So perfect, so strong, so wonderful.”


	4. Chapter 4

Zach signs with us and Peter is overjoyed, to the point that I get dragged out for a celebratory shopping spree.  I didn’t think that was something I wanted to do, until Peter took me to a mall, and then to a shop that specialised in t-shirts, t-shirts with logos on.

 

Lots and lots of t-shirts, in every colour imaginable, some of them more nightmarish and eyeball burning than anything I’ve ever seen before.  Some of the logos are really rude and Peter says, “I will veto anything too inappropriate,” and that stops some of my plans but not all of them.

 

Two hours later I stagger out of the shop with a big bag full of new t-shirts and a pair of converse with Batman on them.  “Peter that was awesome.”

 

“I’m glad you liked it,” he links his arm with mine and then he proceeds to drag me into the men’s section of a big department store, he’s browsing the shirts and I really don’t care as I bask in the knowledge that I own a t-shirt with two lego dudes fighting with lightsabers on it. And it’s in florescent yellow with fluorescent pink handprints on it.

 

Picking out some shirts, that all look the same to me, Peter goes to try them on.  I stand there waiting for him and glance at my watch, he’s such a vain peacock.  Dream Lydia is hanging around and poking at some other shirts so I wander over to have a look.  The shirts are nice, they’re silky feeling to the touch and they’re very vibrant rainbow colours. 

 

There’s even a red one.

 

The girls fight over the colours so I roll my eyes and wait for Peter to come out again, then I lead him over to the shirts and point, “I didn’t know your size,” so he tells me and we pick out some shirts together.

 

In the background, and away from Peter, Erika and Allison high five over Peter picking the purple shirt, while Lydia sulks that Peter didn’t pick the pink one, and Jackson joins them to crow that he totally liked the grey one that Peter has in his hand.  And then I spot Scott, he’s posing in front of a mirror and doesn’t notice Boyd sneak up on him, though he literally jumps through the roof when Boyd growls, and Isaac falls over laughing as Scott pokes his head back through the ceiling to growl at Boyd.

 

“I’m just trying these on,” Peter points to the shirts and I spend another twenty minutes amusing myself while I wait.  He gets one of each colour, except the pink.  Lydia is not amused and I struggle not to laugh at her.

 

Linking my arm in Peter’s I let him drag me to a shop filled with video games and I fight with myself not to grab everything and built a nest in the middle of the shop to bask like a dragon on his hoard.

 

Then we end up in a men’s high end shoe shop.

 

Then a comic shop.

 

Then a men’s underwear shop.

 

Then a shop that makes Lydia wince from all the plaid shirts on offer.

 

And I smile to myself when we go to a shop for men’s trousers.

 

Peter is trying to get in some sneaky shopping time, but he’s also spoiling me, so I think this trip is for both of us.  He walks out with three more pairs of pants he doesn’t need, and I disrupt his plans by hustling him into a hiking shop, he raises an eyebrow at me, “Oh husband mine, this one is for both of us,” and I make sure we both get walking trousers and tops.  Jeans are good for now, but purpose built stuff will keep us cooler in summer and warmer in winter.  We find a type of lean to tent too, I talk him into it telling him how we can shelter from the snow and the rain and cuddle while I read to him.

 

He buys the lean to, he buys anything I ask him for, and we get this lot sent straight to the hotel instead of lugging it around.  In fact, for a price, they take the rest of our shopping too.

 

I’m not sure how we’re going to get all of our combined purchases into the Hummer for the ride home, or even in our home.  Yep we are so getting the creepy basement for storage purposes.

 

My stomach rumbles and Peter offers to get me something in the food court as I eye up the public toilets.  What to do first, eat and then pee, or pee and then eat?  What do I want to do the most?

 

“Go,” he nods his head to the toilets, “I’ll get the food.”

 

“Um?”  What?  Peter never lets me use a public toilet on my own.  Admittedly at the Willows it was because he was protecting me and being overly territorial, but I’ve gotten used to him escorting me to pee when we’re in public.

 

“I’ll get the food,” he caresses the inside of my wrist, “Call me if you need me,” and my mating mark twinges on my wrist as his fingers rub it.

 

“Okay?” Awesome, he’s giving me more freedom.

 

Heady from the rush I make myself walk calmly, instead of dancing all the way to the men’s room.  It’s empty inside and I shut myself in a stall.  I still don’t like being around guys, a hang up I’m sure I’m going to have for decades because of Brad and what he did to me.

 

Finished I head for the washbasin to clean my hands, because ew hygiene is a thing and I’m about to eat, when dream Derek appears, “Stiles, run!”

 

What?

 

Cocking my head I stare at Derek, he stares back and then looks at the door, “Too late, call Peter, lock yourself in a stall, hurry Stiles!”

 

Stumbling backwards on autopilot I lock myself in a stall and then belatedly remember to tap the mating mark to call Peter.  I’m sure it was just one tap to tell him I need help.  I tap it and seconds later get an answering one from him, so I tap again as I hear the main door to the mall open with a wave of noise.

 

Noise that cuts back out as the door closes again.

 

Derek is probably just being paranoid but then whoever it is hasn’t moved and they’re sniffing, loudly, just like a werewolf.  That dodgy aura vision kicks in and through the wall of the cubicle I can see the twisted up amber energy of a Beta werewolf.

 

Peter told me that New York is ruled over and policed by seven Packs of wolves, they have very strict rules that they all follow, as do visitors like us.  He had to send seven sets of material to the Alphas here, and we had to agree not to hunt and kill on this land. There are no issues with the Hunters because they don’t believe werewolves could live in a major urban populated area like this without going crazy, boy are they wrong.

 

This werewolf here must belong to one of the Packs, and he might have smelt a strange wolf, courtesy of Peter being an Alpha, all I have to do is not provoke the wolf and then Peter can clear it all up and we can go eat…

 

Aw crap.

 

Peter’s never going to let me use public bathrooms on my own after this, and I just got that back.  Damn it, this wolf better have a damn good reason for this.

 

The sniffing gets louder, and then the wolf growls and walks so he’s, and I’m assuming it’s a him, is by the stall door.  I know my heart has sped up so he’ll hear me from that alone.

 

“Stilinski,” is snarled and yep that’s a guy.  Wait.  He knows my name?  That’s a good thing right?

 

“Stiles,” Derek is in front of me, “Peter’s coming, hold on, just hold on,” okay that’s scaring me, and I must remember to listen to my Derek in future, if he says run I need to start running first and asking questions later.

 

The thing about werewolves is that they’re strong, so I blink as the door to the stall is ripped off like it’s nothing.  Showy and flashy, but not that impressive, I’ve seen some very impressive things in my time.

 

The other thing about werewolves is that they are fucking fasting when they want to be and I never see the fist that slams into my head.

 

I do see the darkness come up and grab me though.


	5. Chapter 5

Ow.

 

My head hurts.

 

Groaning softly I fight against the urge to open my eyes, the mark on my wrist is almost burning and I twitch, only to hear soft gasps and whispers nearby.  Oh god what the hell happened to me?  And why do I feel damp?  And what hell is that smell?  It smells like urine.

 

I can’t remember for a few seconds and wonder why Peter isn’t here.

 

That makes me open my eyes and I wince at the bright artificial lights overhead, “Peter?” I grunt out and turn my head slowly to where the whispering is coming from.

 

There are a group of young kids huddled together and that damn aura vision flickers in and out, the kids are mostly werewolves with Beta ambers and blues, though one of them has red sparkles too, oh and there are butter yellow humans mixed in.

 

“Where am I?” I wonder out loud and try to sit up but my head is killing me, wait I remember something about a werewolf, he hit me in the men’s toilets.  Groaning even louder I whine, “Why do I always end up getting kidnapped?  What is it that makes people kidnap me,” damn it.

 

“Kidnap?” One of the kid’s asks and she’s the one with the red sparkles, her dark hair is pulled back into some complicated braid thing that women seem to be born knowing how to do, she’s one of the older kids here, she’s wearing sweatpants, in fact all the werewolves are.

 

“Yeah,” I move slowly because of my head, “Kidnapped, again.  Seriously my mate is never going to let me out of his sight at this rate,” I sigh, I’d enjoyed the freedom of peeing alone too.

 

“You can’t have a mate,” the little girl crosses her arms and glares at me making her eyes glow blue instead of deep brown, and now I can see the vague Latin features that are a sharp reminder of Scott when he was little.  “You’re human and humans don’t mate, only werewolves do,” she sounds so sure.

 

“Yeah,” I can’t help smiling at her, “I don’t really stick to the rules,” and I gingerly lift my right arm up so they can see the mating mark and then, to show off, I make it glow.

 

It says something about my life that I get a kick out of making them all go, “Oh!”

 

“But you’re human!” One of the human boys says his eyes really wide.

 

“I know, but I’m a human Alpha, it changes things…” I try and tell them but the little girl is growling at me.

 

“No, humans can’t be mates or Alphas!” But her voice wavers.

 

“Normally I’d agree with you,” I placate her, “But with the stuff I’ve done and seen,” I shrug, “I’m an Alpha of my Pack, I’m mated to Peter, and I’m a universal anchor, so…” I drag the word out, “I guess that makes me special.”

 

And speaking of special I look around at what appears to be some kind of kindergarten, the walls have pictures of humans, wolfed out Betas and the normal wolf shaped Alphas, they’re holding hands and paws and are giving off impressions of happy togetherness.  There aren’t any windows and there’s only one door.  The ceiling is solid with water sprinklers in it.  Five fire extinguishers are on the walls, one on each of the other walls but the one with the door has two.

 

Sitting up cross-legged I try and think through the headache I have. And then I pick at my damp t-shirt and pants, ew, why am I damp? And why kidnap me?  I’m a mated human.  My kidnapper must have made a mistake when he followed me into the toilets and then panicked when he snatched me.  I’m much older than these kids and I’m kind of scared that this guy, or really group of people, are snatching kids because they’re paedophiles.  All the kids are calm about the werewolf thing so they must come from werewolf families, that may limit the amount of police involvement their parents can safely use to track their kids down and get them back.

 

Dad always steps up quickly if kids go missing, they’ve all turned out to have harmless reasons and endings, but with kids, you have to move fast.  The monsters that want kids don’t hang around, and they play nasty.

 

Right these fucking bastards have made a mistake with me, they must have expected Peter to have a small child with him, and for some reason thought I could ID the guy who grabbed me.  Well I am going to take advantage of their mistake.

 

First move is to reassure the kids who must have realised I’m not a threat to them, that’s good, the more they trust me the more I can control them and keep them from harm.  And the best bit is that there is nothing the kidnappers can do that can block Peter from finding me, and Peter’s crazy enough to make them hurt bad for this.

 

I felt bad for the ex-Sheriff, I won’t feel bad about these pieces of crap that thought touching kids was a good thing to do.  Peter can do what he wants to them.

 

I wave in what I hope is a friendly manner, “Hi, my names is Stiles, Stiles Stilinski.  I’m an Alpha of the Peter Hale-Stilinski Pack of Wolf Creek near New York,” and I wonder which geological area I’m in, “Do you know where New York is?”

 

The first girl sighs and sasses me, “Yes, because we live in New York,” and that’s good, that means we were all snatched from the same area, so Peter has to be close and I concentrate to feel him about half a mile away, that’s good, our rescue is on the way.  I just have to keep the kids calm until Peter can get us out.

 

“Great,” I give my goofest grin.  Being the kid of a Sheriff means you grow up learning some things, kids is not one of those things, who in their right mind would ever let me babysit? Factor in Scott as my, then, constant companion and you had a recipe for disaster that no one would ever contemplate letting near kids.  But then I’m only a teen and not much older than them, how hard can it be?

 

“So, I just need you all to be calm and my mate will be here soon, he’ll ride to the rescue and we’ll get you all home to your families soon, it’s going to be okay,” these are werewolf kids they’ll know if I’m lying so I believe in Peter to come for me, and then in my ability to nag him into saving these kids, because I’m not leaving them behind.

 

Nope no way is he getting out of saving as many of us as he can.  He said he would have saved me and then the fragment from the Judge, so now I need him to do the same thing here, but with more variables.

 

They’re staring at me and then they stare at each other, the girl from earlier says, “Huh?”

 

They’re confused and are frowning at each other, that could mean some kind of drug to keep them calm, making it easier for the sons of bitches that are doing this.  “Just it’s okay, it’s fine, you don’t have to be afraid.  Peter can find me anywhere,” I wave my wrist as evidence and the glowy thing seems to be losing its potency because they’re all staring at me.  “Once he’s here, we can get you out of here and back with your families, your Packs, you don’t have to be afraid of the men that stole you from your families, your Packs.  Okay?”

 

Please let them muddle through the drugs, though their eyes aren’t dilated so maybe the men, and I’m generalising here, I know women can do this kind of shit too, where was I?  Oh yeah, maybe the guys have convinced the kids that they’re protecting them, that their families are nearby…

 

“Wha?” It’s the same girl and I’m starting to worry that even with the wolfy healing she’s got some kind of brain damage.

 

Putting my hand on my chest I say really slowly, “Look I’ve been kidnapped, taken away from my Pack and my mate, and I’ve been left here.  I’m telling you it’s okay because the people that did this?  They will not be able to hurt you, I won’t let them, you’re safe.  You’ve obviously been kidnapped too, but I am going to get you out of here, you’re going to get to go home to your families,” right now I really want my dad, and I don’t know why the dream Pack aren’t here, I can only assume they’re tracking the bad guys and will give me a warning if anyone heads this way.

 

“Those of you who are werewolves, you can hear my heart beating, you’ll know if I’m lying to you, I promise I won’t hurt you, that you can trust me, I’m the kid of a cop, I’m an Alpha, and I am going to do everything to help you,” I make it sincere and I believe what I’m saying, I need them to trust me, to do as they’re told, and then I’m going to set their Packs on any of the bad guys that survive Peter.

 

The kids are whispering again and then the girl steps up, “Alpha Stiles?”

 

“Yes,” I leave my arms down by my side trying to make myself seem open to them, non-threatening.  Though I do want to hug myself as the damp t-shirt is pulling heat out of my body and I’m sure I can smell urine.

 

“Why would you take us away from here to go be with our families when our families live here?” She cocks her head at me. “This is Pack territory, this is our nursery, my mom dropped me off here because we have an intruder outside, and then Gerry,” she nods to a younger girl, “Said a man was sleeping on the floor in here, why where you sleeping on the floor?  And why did someone take you from your Pack and put you here?  Are you joining our Pack?  Is your mate joining too?  Because mommy said you can’t separate mates, but then she said mates can only be werewolves too, but you’re not a werewolf and did you know you have a big lumpy bruise on the side of your face? And why do you smell like Martin and like his pee?”

 

I don’t think she breathed once during that spiel.

 

Holy shit is that what I sound like to other people?  And if they’re not kidnap victims then why have I been dumped here?

 

And then dream Derek finally appears, “Stiles we have a problem.  Peter’s just outside the Third Clan of New York’s main den and he’s threatening to slaughter everyone to get to you, and…” he looks around, “Stiles why are you surrounded by werewolves’ kids?  Werewolves are unbelievably protective of their children, they’ll kill first and ask questions later.”

 

Aw crap.

 

And then I remember that the werewolf that knocked me unconscious also said my name before he ripped the door off the stall in the toilets.  This is bad, so very bad, there is not a word big enough to encompass the badness that this is.

 

And my head is killing me.

 

And I’ve been peed on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, Sorry this one is so late, shit has happened in my life, I have a tumblr (same name) and I've had a moment I could post what's been happening, basically my mum is in hospital so I've been so focused on that... I won't bore you but it's not good, if you really want to know I'll add a Tumblr link below, but no more updating for a while, sorry, and fingerscrossed I'm back soon. Thanks GP13 http://goldenpetal13.tumblr.com/post/41860070872/seriously-over-the-top-personal


	6. Chapter 6

Part of me is fixated on the fact I’ve been peed on.

 

My damp t-shirt and pants stick to me and I want to screech and run around flapping my arms and whining about pee.

 

The other parts of my mind are working overtime to try and come up with any answers or solutions to this weird situation.  And to get me out of this alive and in one piece.

 

“Do any of you have a phone I can borrow?” I ask and they all shake their heads.

 

“We don’t have any signal down here,” the girl says and she seems to be some kind of ring leader.  She twists around and points to a cupboard, “There’s a phone in there but we’re not supposed to use it except for emergencies.”

 

Rubbing a hand through my hair I point out, “I think this counts as an emergency.  Do you know how to get an outside line on it?” Oh god please let me be able to dial out of here.

 

“You have to dial 9 first,” the girl says and I make my way over to the cupboard.

 

I’m stiff and sore and I try to stretch my shoulders out and not limp in front of the kids, they are predators after all, I’m not handing myself to them on a damn plate and I’m fairly sure I already have some nice new shiny bruises, I’m not adding to them.  Opening up the cupboard I find the phone and it’s cordless, grabbing it I stand back up.

 

Glancing around I can’t see any other exits except the original one, nothing built into the walls so I can make this call as privately as possible, though with little wolf ears listening in it wouldn’t have been that private anyway.

 

Dialling the number from memory I wait for someone to pick up, a calm female voice says, “Gray’s Office,” she sounds really professional and I can feel some of the tension drain out of me.

 

“Hi, this is Alpha Stiles Stilinski, can I please talk to Mr Williams?  It’s really urgent…” I start.

 

She interrupts, “Alpha Stiles please hold the line, Mr Williams has left instructions that he’s to be interrupted if you called.”

 

Soft classical music starts to play and I’ve got just enough time to recognise the piece as something for the organ, one of those big fancy ones in ye olde churches, and that it sounds like Bach, when the music cuts off and a voice I recognise says, “Alpha Stiles.”

 

“Hey Mr Williams,” damn am I glad to hear the ghoul lawyer.

 

“Where are you Alpha Stiles? I’ve already had Alpha Peter Stilinski on the line wanting access to the Third Clan’s inner land to retrieve you,” as usual the ghoul is straight to the point.

 

“Yeah, I’ve kind of been kidnapped,” and I have to admit I’m embarrassed by this, the ghoul has said I’m this special human and that I’m a Spark, but all I’ve done is managed to get myself kidnapped, for the second time.  “Um, I’m in some kind of nursery in the Third Clan’s territory, and someone called Martin has peed on me.”

 

There’s silence down the line and I wince, maybe I should have called Peter first, but he’ll just gut anyone to get to me, I thought Mr Williams would be able to get me out of this without Peter killing anyone but the guy that knocked me out and peed on me.

 

“Alpha Stiles,” for a second my lawyer sounds almost amused, “If it were anyone else I would think they were making this up.  I’m here with the Third Clan’s lawyer we’ll start working on a way to extract you from that territory and keep the body count to a minimum.  Please do not leave the nursery, werewolves are incredibly protective of their young, they will kill you first and ask questions later,” he pauses and then asks, “Are you safe enough to stay put, you’re not bleeding or require immediate medical attention?”

 

“I’m fine, damp but fine, I’ve only got some bruises, nothing major,” and what does it say about me that bruises are nothing to be concerned over.

 

“Good, stay quiet, don’t draw attention to yourself and we’ll get you out soon,” he’s confident and I’m confident about him, “And whatever you do avoid the children.”

 

“Uh…” I stare at the kids, who all stare back at me, the werewolves are whispering to the human kids and telling them what the lawyer is saying, “We might have a teeny tiny problem with that.”

 

“Alpha Stiles?” Mr Williams is concerned now.

 

“The guy peed on me and dumped me in the nursery, the same nursery that a bunch of kids were left at, I’m assuming because Peter is trying to get into the territory, they found me unconscious and told me where I am,” I explain in a rush, “there are about twenty of them, I think they’re aged between five and ten,” and I’m guessing because I’ve not really been around kids.

 

There’s more silence and a new voice says, “Alpha Stiles, my name is Mr Smith, I’m the lawyer for the Third Clan, I need you to tell me everything that’s happened up until now, can you do that for me?”

 

“Sure,” I pluck at the damp t-shirt and shiver, I can take being cold if they can get me out of here soon.  I tell him how Peter and I had gone shopping, celebrating because we’d signed an awesome new painter.  How Peter had let me go to the toilet on my own.  I leave out the dream Pack, but I don’t know how to explain how I knew something bad was about to happen.

 

“I’ve observed that Alpha Stiles has some Seer abilities,” Mr Williams explains it for me.

 

“Proceed,” Mr Smith says so I do, I tell him how the werewolf pulled the door off my stall as I frantically tapped my wrist to call Peter, and I feel like smacking myself as I remember to rub soothing circles on my mating mark.  God Peter will be frantic to get to me, if he knows I’m awake he’ll calm down, and a calm Peter is a cunning Peter, plus he’ll back off allowing Mr Williams to get me out of this situation.

 

I get to the part where I’m unconscious and how I woke up here, I even go over the fact I thought the kids had been kidnapped and that I was going to try and rescue them.  I reach the point where I phoned Mr Williams and end with, “And I was hoping that you could contact Peter for me and get me out of here.”

 

“And the children are sure you smell of Martin and that he’s part of their Pack?” Mr Smith asks and I turn around to double check.

 

“Yes,” the little girl pipes up and steps up next to me, she doesn’t even take the phone from me so ghoul hearing must be better than human hearing, “He stinks of Martin, he kind of smells like the stuff the boy’s make when they’re older too, you know when they have girlfriends or get married, it’s under the pee but it’s there.  If Alpha Stiles is a mate why would he smell of Martin’s grown up stuff?”

 

I have no idea what she’s talking about but the ghouls must understand her, “Alpha Stiles?” It’s Mr Williams again, “You said you had bruises correct?”

 

“Yeah…” Suddenly dream dad and Scott are here, I’m not going to like this.

 

“Where are you bruised?” The lawyer’s tone has gone all soft and soothing like he’s talking to a wild animal, “Did Martin do anything like Brad did to you?”

 

And with that one name my heart stops in my chest before stuttering to life, “What?” I croak.

 

My vision goes grey around the edges and I sway on my feet.  Now I can catalogue the dampness that’s sticky, that’s not pee.  And some of it’s in my pants.  But I don’t hurt like I would if Martin had raped me, I squeeze my butt and that particular ache is missing, “Oh god,” I whisper it and my dad and Scott are murmuring to me, calming me because I’m having trouble breathing and I don’t realise I’ve collapse to my knees until I vomit and my face is close to the floor.

 

“Stiles, Stiles,” It’s dad, “Breathe son, just think about your breathing, nothing but your breathing,” he coaches me to breathe in and out a few times and I vomit twice more as I battle off images of Brad and what he did to me.

 

I’m vaguely aware that there are kids in the room and I’m shaking and crying, which is making some of them shake and cry too.  A loud growl cuts through the room and I think the little girl is calming them down and talking to the lawyers too.

 

“Easy Stiles, that’s good,” Dad is telling me and I want him to be real, I want to be able to lean into him and get a huge hug off of him, and I really need a shower right now.

 

“It’s okay bro,” Scott is the other side of me, “It’s going to be okay, you’re okay, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but, Peter will be here soon, you can go back to the hotel, you can shower and no one will hurt you.”  I nod at his words and wrap my arms around me as I get my erratic breathing under control, I live in a really fucked up world if I’m counting on Peter of all people to make me feel better about being partially assaulted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, thank you for being so very patient with me, RL is still a bitch right now so I will only promise to try and update each weekday and we'll see how that goes for a while. Hope you enjoy.


	7. Chapter 7

With my breathing under some kind of control and the panic attack staved off for the moment, I tune back into the world.  The little girl is talking into the phone and she’s nodding, “Yes, Alpha Stiles is calming down, I can hear his heartbeat, it’s slower now.”

 

Holy mother of god I’ve just freaked out in front of a bunch of kids, I try to say something glib but the words are stuck in my throat and all I can taste is vomit.  I scrub at my mouth and jump when a bottle of water is waved in my face, it’s a little boy, he has dark skin and something else that makes me think he’s of mixed race, I smile at him and take the water.

 

After failing to open the stupid sealed plastic bottle I shake it and the boy snatches it back, of course he opens it in one go and then waves it in my face, again.  I take a few sips and wash my mouth out, when I can talk I nod to him, “Thank you.”

 

“’S’Okay,” he shrugs at me and side eyes the kids, they’re grouped around another boy, “Ky, he was bad touched by his brother,” and the boy, Ky, can’t be any more than seven, “He lives with his new family just down the hall from me, he has bad dreams.

 

“Our Alpha took him in, he’s nice like that, he tries to help those that get hurt, and that’s why he took Martin in,” the boy who gave me the water stares down at his shoes, “Martin’s supposed to be our new teacher, he’s kind of weird, and he pees a lot, so we thought he’d peed in the room earlier and we thought your heartbeat was one of ours…”

 

“I don’t like him,” the boy Ky blurts out, he has white blond hair and eyes of such a pale blue they’re almost grey, “Martin scares me, he reminds me of my brother,” he huddles and the kids around him reach out to touch him, it’s what Pack does.

 

“So Martin takes me, pees on me, does the other stuff,” my voice falters for a second, “And then dumps me here?”  I do not understand his actions at all, they make no sense.

 

“Alpha Stiles?” It’s the girl with the phone, “Mr Smith wants to talk to you,” she holds the phone out and I take another swallow of water, I feel rung out and I know my hands are shaking slightly.

 

“Hello?” I’d say something funny or sarcastic but that part of me is off line right now and I really just want my dad, or Scott, or Peter and I’m not fussy which of them it is.

 

“Alpha Stiles, I’ve spoken to the Alphas of the Clans, and Mr Williams has spoken to Alpha Peter.  No one is happy right now.  But they have agreed that you were taken against your will,” Mr Smith is saying and my brain is not taking it all in, I should be snarky about them agreeing and how big of them that is, “And the information that you have been marked with another werewolf’s urine, coupled with the ‘Bad Touch’ aspects,” he sighs, “This could explode, badly.  We need to get you away from the children, once we can do that we can calm the instincts of the Third Clan, and you’ll be safe from them.”

 

“Okay…” I really want out of this too.

 

“There are two werewolves headed your way, they belong to the Third Clan, they are the calmest most in control wolves that they have, one of them is a fire-fighter, one of them works in the ER.  We need you to be on one side of the room and the kids on the other,” the kids are listening and start shuffling away to one side.  “Go with the two wolves after the kids have okayed them.”

 

“Yes,” I’m still sitting on the floor near a puddle of my own vomit, I struggle to my feet and the boy who gave me water walks me over to the other wall, “We’re on opposite sides of the room,” I nod at the boy and he jogs over to his friends, only the little girl hovers near me and her head is cocked to one side listening and staring at the door.

 

“Perfect, the wolves will come for you.  They’re going to take you to a room, and there are four more wolves hurrying to get to you.  Each one is from a different Clan, they are there to protect you, so that no matter what there is an independent witness to back you up.  Alpha Peter and Mr Williams are getting you some clothes from the hotel, they’ll drop them off and you can shower,” that sounds heavenly, to be able to shower and wash Martin off of me.

 

“When you’re clean they’ll escort you to the main meeting room, Alpha Peter will be waiting for you, as will I and Mr Williams, as well as the Alphas of the other Clans and their lawyers,” and that’s a lot of people for one lowly little human.

 

“They’re coming,” the girl says, “I can hear them Alpha Stiles, there are two of them,” and we all get to turn and stare at the door.

 

Strangely she doesn’t move away from me, instead as the door opens she moves in front of me.  I can’t see her face but I can see her hands which are growing claws.

 

A woman walks in, she’s short, tiny framed, she’s wearing simple sweats and a strappy t-shirt, her hair is mostly black but there are flashes of blue in it.  Her gaze goes straight to the kids on the other side and she’s sniffing openly and audibly.  Her voice has that trained professional thing that cuts through crowds and helps to calm everyone down, “I can see the kids, they’re unhurt, repeat, they are unhurt.  Though Marcie has wolfed out in front of the human in here.  All I can smell of him is Martin.”

 

A guy walks in behind her, he’s big, huge, he has to duck to get under the doorframe, his eyes are darting about too, he’s taking in the whole room and scoping it out.  Those eyes come to rest on me and his eyes are brown, he smiles at me, “Alpha Stiles?  We’re here to escort you to the room being provided for you, Mr Smith should have told you about it.  If not we can wait here while you phone him.”

 

The little girl wolf relaxes and twists to look at me, “He’s telling the truth Alpha Stiles, his heart was steady the whole time.”

 

Using the wall as a support I get to my unsteady legs, I’m stiffening up again, the bruises must be coming out and I’m aching more.  I’m also aware that I’m in shock so things are a bit unreal for me, you’d think I’d be used to supernatural shit hitting the fan, “Thank you,” I’m not sure who I’m thanking.

 

“You’re welcome,” the girl smiles up at me and I get to see her amber eyes turn red, just for a second, but the potential to be an Alpha is there.

 

The male wolf moves so he’s in front of the other children and I stagger over to the woman, I don’t protest as she slips an arm around me and then I’m being lead from the room.  I look back once, the little girl is over by Ky now, and she’s hugging him tightly, all the kids are focusing on him, except one girl standing to the side, she’s blonde like Ky and her big blue eyes are on me, she’s hugging a stuffed rabbit and sucking her thumb, I give her a smile because I don’t know what else to do and she pulls her thumb out of her mouth long enough to smile back, she’s missing a few teeth and if I didn’t feel like complete shit I’d probably go ‘aw’ at her adorableness.

 

Leaning on the female wolf, I let her lead me down a corridor I’ve never seen before, “Stiles,” someone I know calls my name and I turn my head slightly to see Melissa keeping pace beside me, “Stiles, I need you concentrate on me okay?”

 

Okay, I guess.

 

“No Stiles, you concentrate on me,” she’s being fierce again, she was always doing that for Scott.  “Stiles you’re in shock, you’re not thinking straight, so concentrate on me,” and she’s a nurse so she’ll know what she’s talking about.

 

Except we’re not in the corridor anymore we’re in an elevator and Melissa is talking to dad and Derek, wow, when did that happen?

 

Derek looks seriously pissed, “He’s not healing, the wounds are only covered over at best, anything is going to trigger him, you can feel how he’s shutting himself down to cope with what happened.”

 

“Yes, but we need him to function right now,” Melissa argues back.

 

“No, we need him safe,” dad weighs in, I wonder who they’re talking about.  “And right now that means Peter.”

 

Peter.

 

I want Peter.

 

I can’t have dad or Scott or the real Pack so I’ll have Peter.

 

Only they all look really grim, and then Derek says, “You know they won’t let Peter near him right now, you know that the Forth Clan’s Alpha said, we need something to override that.”

 

And then I’m not in the elevator anymore, I’m walking down a hotel corridor, the big huge male werewolf is walking in front of us, he’s acting all bodyguardy and being extra vigilant.

 

He stops in front of a door marked ‘633’ and knocks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your kind comments, it’s good to be back, now if only RL would give me a break just for a few decades or more.


	8. Chapter 8

A woman opens the door and she talks to one of the werewolves walking me wherever it is that I’m going.  She’s dressed smartly and something about her screams cop.  Her brown hair is pulled back and she seems very calm, that vision of mine swirls in and I can see the strong amber power radiate from her, she’s a Beta and a powerful one too.

 

Behind me I can hear my dream Pack bickering over something but I’m starting to shiver again and everything is one step removed from me, nothing really matters apart from Peter getting here soon.

 

Then the new woman is taking my arm very gently and coaxing me into the room, it’s a generic hotel room, like the ones you see on TV, Peter would hate it, there’s nothing special about it at all.  Though there are three more werewolves waiting for me, they’re all female and just as professional as the one standing beside me.

 

I’m coaxed to the middle of the room and a light is shone into my eyes, I blink and move away from it.  A hand that burns, because it’s so hot, touches my forehead and I think one of the women is trying to talk to me but my ears aren’t working properly because it’s like I’m underwater.

 

“She said she wants to undo your pants so they can check what injuries you have,” Chris Argent is standing next to me and I jump back away from him and the women, there will be no pant dropping while I have enough fight to stop them, and what the hell is Chris Argent doing in the room?

 

“I have no idea,” he’s as baffled as I am, “Moments ago I didn’t even exist.”

 

“DAD!” Allison appears from nowhere and tackles the man into a hug.  Oh, he’s a figment of my imagination, like the rest of the dream Pack, but why Chris Argent?  He scares me.

 

Other than Allison none of the rest of the Pack look pleased to see him, the werewolves are keeping their distance from him and then my dream dad walks up to the newest edition of imaginary people I’ve made and leans in, “I’d welcome you here but we’re in a bit of crisis, so don’t rock the boat, I have full access to Stiles’ past memories so I know all about you and you’d better not upset my son, now or ever,” and wow I didn’t know my imaginary dad could so damn serious and scary.

 

If anything dream Chris nods, “I see what you mean,” those pale eyes swivel to me, “And you know I can’t actively hurt Stiles, but I don’t understand why he would have made me, he doesn’t need me.  Why add a werewolf hunter to a Pack?  However imaginary it is.”

 

He has a very good point but my brain is sluggish and I’m not thinking clearly.

 

Boyd steps into the room and his eyes are wild, that is so not a good sign, he never freaks out apart from when the shit is really hitting the fan, “Peter is wolfing out, the ghouls are pinning him to the floor for now, but he’s seconds away from starting a bloodbath, we have to something…”

 

A hand touches me and I flinch away from the woman it belongs to, “Stiles, Stiles my name is…” I zone out and don’t listen because my Pack is gathering and they’re being all grim and serious, they need me to focus and do something.

 

Derek comes over, “Stiles, we have a problem.  The wolves of New York are gathering.  The fact that you were kidnapped and dumped by Martin in the kindergarten is something they all accept, and the Alpha of the Third Clan is in serious trouble because of it.”  And so far everything Derek’s saying is good, this should mean I’ll have Peter here soon, except I hear a ‘but’ in his tone.  “Yes, there is a but, a very big but.  You’re human, and you are legally married to Peter, this puts you in a position of power and authority, the fact that a much lesser wolf attacked you physically, sexually and marked you with his scent is something that could easily trigger a war, and that’s with them accepting you as Peter’s human husband…” He trails off and scrubs at his face, there’s something much worse he isn’t saying.

 

“They’re refusing to acknowledge you as Alpha and as Peter’s mate,” Scott blurts out and comes over to me, “They keep saying you’re human and they won’t listen to the ghouls who are insisting that not only are you a human Alpha but a full Mate to Peter too.”

 

I don’t know what the problem is why this is an issue, I just really want Peter here and for these women to stop trying to touch me.

 

“The problem,” dad moves into my line of sight, “Is that if they acknowledge you as Peter’s Mate, then Martin has broken so many werewolf laws that he’ll take the whole of the Pack down with him, they’ll all be executed for this, no one touches a Mate without permission, you’re a walking legend made flesh, true Mates are so rare that to attack the Pack holding the Mate is considered so taboo there have been cases of hundreds of Packs merging as one to hunt down anyone that dared lift a hand against a Mated pair.”

 

Okay I can vaguely see how that is bad…

 

Wait…

 

Execute the whole Pack?  Just because of Martin?  Even the kids?

 

“Even the kids,” Derek’s grim as he confirms it. “Men, women, children, babies.”

 

Fuck.

 

“Exactly,” Derek sighs and rubs his hand over his face.  “But they won’t let Peter up here until he accepts, and publicly acknowledges, you as only human, and as his husband, not as his equal or his Mate.  Peter’s a werewolf he can’t lie and say you aren’t Mates, it’s causing him to transform and he’ll kill anyone that gets in his way as he tries to get to you, the ghouls are barely keeping him in place…”

 

And no one needs to mention that when Peter gets loose a lot of people are going to get hurt, maimed or dead.  If he can’t lie to tell them to say I’m not his Mate then I need to convince them I am a human Alpha and his Mate, we’ll deal with the whole kill the Third Clan thing later, after all it was just Martin, and as long as he pays, and I get to keep Peter, I’m good.

 

But how to convince them?

 

“Howl,” Chris is standing with his arm looped around Allison, “Any werewolf can howl, which should open up the option of you being Mated.”

 

Brightening Scott nods, “Yeah, real me howled for real Derek when he was missing, Peter called the real me out and made real me obey through his howls, and we know that Derek’s howl as Alpha is different, all you have to do is howl like an Alpha.”

 

And there is one huge flaw in that plan, I’m not an Alpha werewolf, I’m not even a werewolf, so the howling thing is out.

 

“Actually,” Erika smirks, “We could help you, we’re part of you, and you’re the one who’s going to howl…”

 

Could it work?

 

“You won’t know until you try,” Boyd points out and I straighten up and slap at the woman’s hands who’s still trying to talk me into dropping my pants for her, like that’s something that’s going to happen.

 

Finding a clear space I watch as Derek moves to stand behind me and the other five Betas fan out around me, Scott is in front of me and the rest are equidistance from each other making a rough circle.  None of the humans are there but they are watching tensely.

 

“Okay, deep breath,” Scott coaches me and I remember doing the same for real him in the school, “Exactly like that,” he grins at me, “Now it’s your turn.”

 

I take a deep breath in and tip my head back, I just have to howl like a wolf, it should be easy, so far I’ve managed to see the souls of the dead and free them, I can do this.

 

I howl for Peter and it just sounds like a dumb human trying to emulate something, damn it.

 

“Stiles,” Derek growls, “Give us a second,” and I witness them wolfing out, “Now concentrate on us, on Peter, and the fact he believes you’re an Alpha,” I close my eyes and do as he tells me, “Now breathe in, a big deep breath,” I do that too, “Now HOWL!”

 

And I do that too.

 

I howl and I can feel this one is different, it sounds the same, like a human trying to howl, but there’s something else there, something that feels like Scott and Derek and then Isaac, Erika, Boyd and Jackson.  Something that’s primal and strong and for a few seconds red energy ripples around me and I’ve found my Alpha voice.

 

I did it!

 

I howled an Alpha howl!

 

Opening my eyes in triumph I see my dream Pack is either high fiving or congratulating me, but they’re not the only people in the room and the four female werewolves are wolfed out and growling.


	9. Chapter 9

I needn’t have worried as all four of them drop to the floor and bare their necks to me muttering, “Alpha,” so I guess I made a good impression on them at least, but was it enough to get Peter released to come and find me?

 

My Pack needed me to focus for them, or more likely for me, but now I’m losing that focus again, it’s not like I have a lot of focus at the best of times, and Melissa was right I’m in shock.

 

“He’s coming,” Dad is by my side and I’ve skipped time again because the werewolves and my Pack have moved positions, “He’s mostly in control, Mr Williams is walking him up to your room, no one is hurt, the Alphas have had no choice but to accept your true status.”

 

Good, Peter is coming.

 

Holy mother of god I’m actually wishing for Peter to be here to take care of me.

 

Suddenly my dream Pack vanishes and I spin towards the door, “Peter!” He’s the only reason they’d leave me, and sure enough the door knob is turning, and Peter is standing in the doorway.  There are various people behind him, including Mr Williams but I ignore them and hurry over to Peter, a Peter that’s striding towards me too.

 

Normally a Peter Hale that’s wolfing out with burning red eyes and a mouth filled with fangs should send me screaming in the other direction, instead I’m flinging myself at him and muttering his name over and over.  I remember him marking me at the slightest provocation and for some reason that is now translating in my brain as safe and wanted and clean.  Snagging the side of my t-shirt I bare the right hand side of my neck to him even as I go in to bite at his neck.

 

His skin is warm under my lips and he smells like home and safety.  He stiffens for a second in my one armed embrace and then his mouth clamps down on my exposed neck with a growl that vibrates through my body.

 

Finally parts of me can shut down and I can let Peter take care of me until I can do the equivalent of a reboot of my brain, god I’m so glad he’s here right now.  My skin is itching all over and I cling to him trusting him to do the right thing.

 

I must zone out because the next thing I know I’m in a boring bathroom and Peter is tugging at my clothes, I let him do what he wants and I don’t fight him, we’re alone in here and I’ve long since gotten used to him touching me.

 

Warm water cascades down onto my body and Peter’s hands are rubbing soothing circles of soapy goodness all over me, he’s washing away Martin and I stand there stupidly as he lathers, rinses, and repeats.  Part of me is impatient to get on and do anything, to face this whole thing head on and work out whatever the hell it is I’m supposed to be working out.  Another part of me is numb, and I’m glad it’s numb, because under the numb are things I never want to face, I want to bury them and pretend they never happened.  Under that numb area is a wound I can’t heal and it frightens me.

 

One of my Pack mentioned that I’m not healing, that I’m not getting better I think this is what they were walking about, I’m not expecting miracles because the trauma I went through wasn’t the kind of thing you walk away from unscarred, but the fact that I triggered, I think that’s the right word for this, so quickly is a bad sign too.

 

Peter’s rinsing me again and the water should be stained with whatever Martin did to me, except it’s clear as it circles the drain and vanishes from the shower tray.

 

“I think I need therapy,” slips from me and I’m that numb that when Peter stills and stops washing me I don’t react, I don’t react because I actually trust him, I trust him not to physically hurt me, I trust him to protect me.  “I broke down when I heard that Martin had done more than pee on me, I literally broken down in front of a bunch of kids Peter, and I’m in shock aren’t I, everything’s one step removed from me, I can’t even think properly, this is worse than when you came to save me in the parking garage when Oren died…”

 

It’s silent in the shower, only the continuous hiss of the water fills the room, and then Peter’s saying, “Stiles…” But he stops and I lower my eyes to the floor, I don’t want to look at him, I don’t want to see what could be in his eyes.

 

“This is like the first time after Brad,” it was horrible, I couldn’t believe it was over, I kept blanking out like I am now, the only things that kept me grounded in the hospital as I was pulled around and a rape kit was done were Scott and dad.

 

“Scott and your dad were at the hospital?” Peter asks surprised.

 

“No, not the real ones, the imaginary ones I made, I needed them,” I mutter and my dream Pack are yelling from the other room, something about not talking about them.  “I needed them to be there so I created them, my own dream Pack, one that will never leave me, that will never feel that I’m not enough for them, they want me for me… Like you do now, except you’re real,” and he is real, his skin is wet but warm and I curl into him.

 

He’s nuzzling into my neck so I mimic him and he goes into full snuggle mode, god this nice, and he chuckles, “I’m glad you think it’s nice,” he murmurs pressing kisses on my shoulder, and wow we have moved on if I’m enjoying him touching me, I’d never have been able to do this when we re-met in Sacramento, “No you were so scared of me then,” he agrees and I wonder for a few seconds if he’s reading my mind, “No Stiles, you’re talking out loud,” he tells me and I nod, yeah I tend to do that, to babble away about stuff.  “Why don’t you tell me more about your dream Pack?” He asks me softly, “I can wash you a few more times while you tell me all about them.”

 

So I do.

 

I tell him about dad and Scott, and how the others turned up one by one, how I was less lonely, how they helped me with Brad, helped me cope with what happened to me, I shake then and Peter has to help me calm down.  The period of time with Oren was better and they were all there then, they’d warn me if he was in a mood, they kept me company at school, watched TV with me, did homework with me, but they couldn’t save me from Oren any more than they could with Brad.

 

“Stiles,” Peter breathes in my ear, “I should have come for you sooner, I’m sorry, I’m so very sorry you had to live through those experiences because of those two poor excuses for people.  I’m sorry that you had to make imaginary friends to keep you company.”

 

“It’s okay Peter,” I twist slightly so he can wash my armpits, “You did come for me, and you don’t do that to me, you’ve never done that to me,” and he hasn’t, he’s always so gentle to me.

 

He goes still again, “Actually I did Stiles, I did do similar types of things to you, I forced you to go with me and I did rape you, repeatedly, even when I saw it hurt you emotionally I still did it,” he turns my head so I have to look him in his eyes, “And I am so very sorry Stiles, I genuinely didn’t understand the damage I was doing to you, I promised you would be safe with me and I broke my promise to you.”

 

“But you were always so gentle,” I point out, “Really you were, you stretched me before hand, you asked to make sure I was ready, you did everything you could to make it easy on me.  You helped me shower and wash afterwards, you got me cartoons to watch, you cooked for me,” it’s my turn to reach out to him, “Jesus Peter you are nothing like those two assholes, really, it’s not your fault I can’t handle a little bit of sex.  I mean look at the progress we’re making, like the make out sessions, of which you are the only person I’ve ever done that with,” and he is, “And I’ve been getting partial erections with you, I never did that with Brad or Oren…” I fade off at the end because he looks annoyed and I’ve screwed up somehow, I might be in shock but it’s penetrating that I’ve done something to upset him.

 

“Peter?” My voice wobbles, “Honey,” he likes pet names, well that one, “Is something wrong?  Did I do something wrong?” Ah crap, I don’t need this right now.

 

“No Stiles, YOU have done nothing wrong,” he reassures me, he reaches out with a hand to caress my face, “In this whole thing you have done nothing wrong, yes you get scared, or upset, but you don’t do anything wrong.  Let me wash you some more Stiles, and then we’ll get you checked out by a doctor that Mr Williams found, he says she’s really good, I won’t let her touch you, but I need someone with medical training to check you, okay?”

 

He’s focusing back on me, that’s a good thing, he’s not mad at anything I’ve done, that’s even better.  “Okay,” I agree, I don’t want to be examined but Melissa was upset so I’ll need someone real to do a check-up.

 

His hands are gentle on my body and I close my eyes again letting myself drift and not think about anything.  Parts of me are shutting down, they’re shielding me so I stop fighting and hope Peter and my dream Pack will be able to protect me while I have my freak out moment.


	10. Chapter 10

Peter dries me off and I let him, I stay pliant, I don’t fight, he murmurs to me telling me what he’s going to do before he does it, his hands are so careful with me that I don’t bother wincing when he catches my bruises.

 

“Stiles, Stiles,” He’s calling my name and I blink at him, “The doctor is here, it’s just her, no one else, she won’t touch you Stiles, I promise.”

 

I really don’t want to have to deal with anyone else in my personal space but I nod because Melissa was so upset and I let Peter lead me naked into the main bedroom, the other wolves are gone, it really is just a woman.  She’s like Scott, that slightly dark skin and curling dark hair all off set with big brown eyes, it should make her puppy like, but unlike Scott she has this vibe coming off of her, she’s anything but a puppy.

 

She reminds me of Richard, no, more like Deaton, she’ like Deaton, and for a second I can see this big ass tree, an oak tree, then it’s gone.

 

“Misters Stilinski,” her voice has that annoying calm tone that Deaton’s always has, “Mr Williams has asked me to check Alpha Stiles and to see to his medical needs before reporting to the Alphas downstairs.”

 

“I’ve explained it to Stiles,” Peter hovers by my side, “He knows you won’t be touching him, so tell me what you need and I’ll help Stiles with it, unless he really hates it, in which case we will NOT be doing it.”

 

The woman nods and then the hell starts, she doesn’t get closer to me than two feet and it’s Peter’s hands that touch me, Peter who sniffs for some of the answers, I just nod and shake my head when she asks me things.  I have to work hard not to end up back in the hospital room after Brad’s first time with me, they tried so hard to be gentle with me as they examined me, but I was so badly hurt everywhere.  They had to prod, poke and press, I clung to the nurse’s hand and had to retreat into my own head to survive it, and when they put things inside me to get his DNA something inside me broke and ripped, like a piece of me snapped off and then dream dad and Scott were there, they kept me grounded until the examination was over.

 

This time my dream Pack can’t get into the room because of Peter but they yell and call out to me, I’m not alone, they’re here, and so is Peter.  I cling to Peter where I can and then I have to go up on all fours so she can see my ass.  Peter parts my cheeks and I flinch knowing she can see that part of me, her voice is soft when she says, “The damage from a much earlier attack is all I can see, his current attacker didn’t get that far,” her voice hasn’t wavered or shown any emotion once, and it’s really annoying, like really really annoying, it’s not soothing in the slightest.

 

I’m allowed to turn back and put my butt down on the bed, Peter wraps the bedcover around me and hides my body from the woman, though he doesn’t bother to cover his own and sits there majestically naked.  Some part of me stirs, Alphas can be fairly jealous, well they call it possessive, and I’m supposed to be an Alpha.  Peter’s mine, whether I really want him to be or not, so I twist and wrap an arm around his front and take some of the cover with it, thereby covering the more private area of him from her view.

 

Lifting an eyebrow he gives me a quizzical look, “Mine,” I explain shakily and I watch as a smug look flickers across his face.

 

“Yes, yours,” He agrees and pulls me closer against him.

 

The woman finally shows some emotion and it’s surprise, “Thank you both,” she gives us a nod of her head, “You will be pleased to know that physically Alpha Stiles is good health, he just needs rest to heal from the minor bruising, keep him warm and I’ll have food sent up to you, then sleep, he’s exhausted.  I’ll check him again periodically to make sure he comes out of shock safely and timely.”

 

I notice she says physically and not mentally.

 

She leaves after Peter nods to her and then I’m being put to bed, it’s not our bed, it’s not even the bed in our hotel room, it’s not the same, it’s not comfy and I shiver until Peter slides in next to me and holds me tightly.  I used to feel trapped when he did that, now when his hand moves to cover my heart I put my own hand over it and doze off.

 

At some point food turns up and Peter feeds me, I still don’t fight him and I let him stick the fork in my mouth, I chew and swallow on command.  It helps.  I’m less cold, there’s warmth in my stomach and as Peter wraps himself around me again I fall asleep feeling much safer and better than I have in hours.

 

Until the nightmares come.

 

When I was a kid I’d scream the house down until mom and dad came and made everything alright again.  Brad taught me not to scream, it disturbed his sleep or just turned him on and he’d be ready to do things to me all over again.  Oren just didn’t like being woken up and would kick me out of bed.  So I’m stunned when I wake up screaming, not just a little bit but seriously screaming louder than I ever have before, the memory of Brad’s hands on me chasing me up from sleep.

 

A shape is next to me and I lash out as I try to escape, I scramble from the bed to the floor with a thump and flee for the bathroom, I slam it behind me and lock it, I know it won’t buy me any time at all because Brad’s smashed them down before.

 

Hiding in a corner I wait for my enraged jailor to come and punish me for breaking the screaming rule.

 

A soft knock is all I get and then an equally soft, “Stiles?” That’s not Brad, that’s Peter.  Oh my god I just lashed out at Peter, shit, I scramble towards the door and fumble with the lock, I open the door and throw myself at him, maybe if I keep him occupied with me he’ll forget the hitting thing.

 

“Peter, Peter, Peter,” I mutter and let my hands roam as I hold him as tightly to me as I can.

 

“Try kissing him!” Lydia yells and then I hear her say, “What?  Men fall for distractions like that, Jackson does,” I tune out the argument that erupts after that little snippet of information and take her advice.

 

I can’t reach his mouth in one smooth move so I litter his skin with tiny kisses and keep saying his name over and over, I do get close to his mouth but he pulls away and I fear the worst before he says, “Shh, you’re safe Stiles, wherever you were, you’re not now, you’re okay, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

 

I stop squirming and let him gather me up close to him, he even kind of rocks me a bit and rubs a big circle on my back.  My heart starts to slow and I curl into him because he’s warm and the bit between the bathroom and the bedroom is chilly.

 

“There,” he presses a kiss to my shoulder, “See you’re safe now Stiles, all safe, do you think you could go back to bed and sleep?  Do you need anything first?”

 

“No, I’m good thank you,” the brief spurt of adrenaline is wearing off and I let him carry me to the bed, but instead of letting him wrap himself against my back, I turn and push him down onto his back, then I sort of flop over him, my ear pressed against his chest where I can hear his heart beating steadily.

 

Closing my eyes I murmur, “I can hear your heartbeat.”

 

Hands pull the covers up and over me, he tucks me in where he can, “I can hear yours too.”

 

“Cheater,” I say with no real heat behind it, he chuckles at my weak joke and I let myself go back to sleep.  This time when I start to have nightmares Peter wakes me up and comforts me, it’s not the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had but it’s not the worst either.

 

Waking up with my head pillowed on his chest reminds me of our new home and I smile softly wishing I was there right now, we normally do this on a Sunday morning, and then later on in the day we’d have gone for a walk and I’d read to him in the forest, his big monstrous wolfman body close to mine as my dream Pack listens in from nearby.

 

Yawning I stretch out and ignore the twinges from all of my bruises, I really need to use the bathroom.  Propping myself up on an elbow I gaze down at Peter who’s watching me with sleepy blue eyes.  Tracing his jaw with one of my fingers I get to see those pupils dilate slightly and I can’t resist placing a kiss on his mouth, he kisses me back but doesn’t try to take control of it at all.

 

Pulling back I grin cockily feeling much more like me when my stomach rumbles loudly, his body shakes as he laughs and I huff as if I’m annoyed and then I shrug, because yeah I’m a bit hungry, “Shower and then food?” I ask him.

 

“Hmm, I think we can manage that,” it’s his turn to stretch and his chest does all kind of interesting things that I’m not ready to think about, instead I take his hand and lead him to the shower.  Turning it on I step in and let him wash me clean, there’s this layer of something just under my skin and he scrubs it gently away for me.


	11. Chapter 11

I vaguely remember something about Peter and Mr Williams getting clothes from our proper hotel room, which would explain the pile of suitcases in the corner of the room.  I really don’t remember them arriving but there are holes in my memory from yesterday.

 

When we left home for our honeymoon Peter meticulously packed the cases and he even had a list he ticked items off of, twice.  So I open up the first case expecting to see everything neat, instead it looks like he just grabbed stuff and shoved it in randomly.  Looking up at him I find him riffling through another case, it’s the same, like its insides exploded and dumped clothes everywhere.

 

Catching me watching him he shrugs, “I was in a hurry, I had to be here for you,” and I think I’ve finally lived to see Peter blush, or it could be the light.

 

“I’m glad you were there,” I tell him and then point at the cases, “And I see the patented Stiles Stilinski packing method has been employed brilliantly,” I rummage through the clothes and my hands stop when they feel the softest damn t-shirt material ever.  I yank out one of Peter’s special t-shirts, the ones I found and he wears to an unfair advantage.  It’s already been worn and when I sniff it I can smell Peter.

 

Not thinking about it I slip it over my head, I’ll wear that as my base layer, it feels right.  I also don’t think when I find a pair of his underpants, though I check for marks before pulling them on, a pair of his dress pants follows and I top it off with one of my own t-shirts, a clean one and fairly plain, then one of his shirts.  Now I just need some socks.  I find a clean pair and hold them up in triumph to see him staring at me with a thoughtful look.

 

He doesn’t say anything so I sit on the bed to put my socks on, I’m really getting hungry now.  My shoes are in another case and I lace them up and turn to see Peter in a pair of my jeans, and in the process of pulling one of my t-shirts on over his torso, it’s another plain one I use for layering, then he puts on one of his own shirts and buttons it up, he glances at me, “Well if you can wear my clothes and smell absolutely delicious, I can wear yours and smell just as ravishing.” He of course just stands on one leg and pulls his socks on and then laces up his shoes, all with perfect balance.

 

Getting ready to step out of our room I grasp his left hand with my right and our wrists brush slightly, that zinging feeling from our bond zips through me, and I automatically lean into his side to find him doing the same thing.  For a second we pause then laugh at the exact same time.

 

Chuckling we walk down the corridor and it’s so easy to fall into step, to twine our fingers together, to start moving like a couple.  It’s startling, just like the shower was, I can’t believe I’m this close to Peter and I’m not totally unhappy.  I’m not totally happy either, but I haven’t been since my mom died, okay so there were a few brief moments with Derek but now I know he wasn’t really into me so those don’t count.

 

In the elevator I openly stare at Peter and study his face, he flicks his eyes towards me a few times but he doesn’t comment and then I let him lead the way to the breakfast room.  It’s like we’re wrapped up in this fragile little bubble, I’ve seen other couples do it, I’ve seen my parents do it, I never thought I’d get the chance to have this, even though it was one of the end results for me and Lydia in my ten year plan.

 

A waiter meets us and by the way he lowers his eyes I’m guessing he’s a wolf or at least part of the Pack.  We wind our way through a giant room, I don’t pay a huge amount of attention to it, I’m busy watching Peter and then we’re at a small table for two.

 

“No,” I shake my head, “Not this table, can we have a big table please? I want to sit next to Peter,” I’m clinging to Peter’s hand right now and I want to stay close to him, to let him keep all my nightmares and bad memories at bay.

 

“Of course Alpha,” the waiter bows and we’re led a different way, right up to the far end and against a wall.  “I hope this is acceptable?”

 

“Its fine, thank you,” I flash the guy a smile and then Peter and I move unanimously to sit with our backs to the wall, me on the left and him to my right, that way I don’t have to let go of his hand.

 

“I have our order,” Peter says but he’s turned to me and is staring at me, I stare back.  Not once does he look at the waiter as he orders our breakfast of fruit, toast with honey, mini omelettes, bread and some cheeses.

 

Left alone again all he does is stare at me, like he did when we were at home, except I’m getting used to it and I stare back.  His eyes are fascinating.  They’re so clear and blue.  Here in the morning sunlit room they look bright and kind of suck you in.

 

Leaning in I have to wiggle so I’m turned towards him and our knees bump as I get closer and closer.  In the end our noses bump too but then he damn well rubs his nose against mine and that’s fucking cute as hell.  He’s faintly amused and I can’t help staring at him.

 

Why am I staring at him so much?

 

I don’t understand.

 

I wasn’t doing this before I was kidnapped by the other werewolf, in fact I liked being around him but I loved that minute amount of freedom he allowed me, it gave me a small breathing space to recharge before being with him again.  Except right now I feel safe.

 

Hmm, that could be it.

 

Peter makes me feel safe, because who in their right mind takes on an insane Alpha werewolf, especially one as ruthless as Peter.

 

I do let go of his hand so I can eat, but I press my knee against his, the heat from his leg is reassuring.  He’s even remembered my pills and I take my recommended dose, “Thanks,” I nudge him with my shoulder.

 

“You’re welcome,” he nudges me back, “If you’re up to it, we’ll have the doctor examine you again, just to be on the safe side, and then we’ll go home, we can finish our honeymoon all curled up in our territory.”

 

It’s so tempting but, “Doctor? Again?” Damn it I don’t want to be naked around people again, I don’t like the helpless feeling it gives me.

 

“She can make sure you’re out of shock properly,” he says soothingly, “That way we can drive home without having to worry, I don’t want to be on a road in the middle of nowhere and have something happen,” he takes a bite of toast liberally smothered in honey.

 

“Fine,” I give in like I even had a choice to say no, “But I’m keeping my clothes on,” only Peter gets to see me naked.

 

“Deal,” his eyes rake over me, “You’re mine, I have no intention of sharing you,” and that should freak me out but I grin at him and eat my omelettes happy with his little declaration.

 

“So long as you remember you’re mine too,” I point out and steal a sliver of toast off of his plate, he nods and chews and then slides part of my omelette off of my plate and onto his.

 

Stabbing it with his fork he lifts it up to his lips but I dart in to kiss him, he freezes and I use the distraction to steal the omelette straight off his fork.  He blinks at his fork and then swivels his eyes back to me.  I laugh at him showing off my lack of manners because my mouth is full, then I sneak more toast off of his plate and he gives me a put upon look.

 

Holding the toast up I offer it to him and he takes a bite out of it, the angle is wrong though and there’s a smear of honey next to his mouth.  Impulsively I put the toast down and then rub my thumb over the spot to get the honey off, I lick my thumb and then it’s my turn to freeze because for a second he looked hungry.

 

Just as quickly the moment is gone and he gives me his lazy smile, “You’re lucky you’re my Mate Stiles, not everyone gets to steal my breakfast.”

 

“Phewie, you should see me guard my curly fries,” I mime a scary face and claws, “No one touches the curly fries.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” He pats my knee and steals the rest of his toast back from me.

 

All in all our little breakfast moment makes me relax, he’s distracting me, stopping me from thinking about what happened to me.  I just want to race home and curl up like he said, I want to be somewhere I’m starting to feel safe.

 

I want Peter and my dream Pack.

 

Talking of my dream Pack it’s like I’m forgetting something or some things, because looking around the huge room I realise we’re the only people in here, our waiter is standing nearby and it’s kind of got the feeling of a funeral hanging around the place.


	12. Chapter 12

With breakfast over with I let Peter take my hand again and lead me out of the empty echoing room, okay so it doesn’t echo, but it feels like it should.  Our waiter has bowed to us and I think he’s nearly in tears.

 

“What’s going on?” I whisper to Peter baffled and confused.

 

“They’re going to uphold the lore that protects Mates,” Peter says calmly, “It’s a sad and upsetting time for most werewolves,” and of course Peter’s fine because Peter isn’t your normal average werewolf.  “I’ll take you home, you won’t have to worry about it Stiles, you’ll be safe.”

 

“What law?” This is important, this is really important and I don’t remember why.

 

He frowns at me, “Just let me take you home Stiles,” the mask of amiable husband slips a bit on his face, “You don’t have to worry about it, I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

 

“What law?” I ask him again, “Please Peter.”

 

Sighing like I’m the one being difficult he says, “The lore states that certain individuals are untouchable, they are so rare, so special, that to harm them is death, those that break the lore are executed. Mates are part of that list.”

 

Oh, “So they’re going to kill Martin?” I can live with that, now I see what he means about not having to worry and that I’ll be safe, “Okay, why didn’t you just say so.”

 

Tilting his head Peter gives me a pitying look, “Stiles, Martin was part of a Pack, a Pack that had already granted us safe passage,” there’s something big coming, “It’s not just Martin that will pay, all of the Pack has to, they failed in their duty, they let a wolf attack you, hurt you, scent you, assault you sexually and then he dumped you with the children threatening you and them at the same time…”

 

“When you say the whole Pack…” I’m getting a sense of Deja vu here, like I’ve had this conversation before.

 

“I mean the whole Pack, all of them, by nightfall all of the Third Clan will be dead,” and Peter’s still showing no emotion what so ever, he’s calm, relaxed.  “We should go now Stiles, I’ll drive us home, and I’ll cook something nice for us, we can curl up in bed and watch some of those cartoons you like so much,” and while I’m safe in bed someone’s going to be killing those kids I met.  I don’t even remember their names, but I remember the girl that tried to protect me, the boy that got me water, the other one that got hurt by his brother.

 

“No,” I yank my hand out of his, “No Peter, you can’t let them die, not all of them, they had nothing to do with Martin.  Holy crap Peter, the kids tried to protect me, this little girl stood in front of me and would have stopped anyone from hurting me…”

 

“I’m sure she’s a lovely girl, but she’s none of my concern, only you are, only you matter to me,” he’s getting upset.  “Please don’t make a scene Stiles, we’re going home and you’re going to be happy.”

 

“No,” I enunciate it as clearly as I can, “I’m not going home until I see if I can help those kids, damn it Peter I thought they’d been kidnapped too, I told them I’d help get them home,” he holds his hand out to me and I ignore it, I cross my arms and then realise that might be a mistake when his eyes glow red.  “Peter, please, I have to try, I can’t be happy knowing I left them here to die, it will haunt me Peter.”

 

Huffing he glares at me, “Stiles there is nothing you can do, the lore is the lore, as long as Martin is part of the Pack, the Pack is subject to the same punishment.  Mates are sacrosanct.  You are a Mate, my Mate, you were attacked, there are consequences, their deaths are the consequence.”

 

He holds his hand out slowly, the tips of his fingers have the beginnings of his claws, he’s really in a bad mood.  I stand my ground and shake my head, god I hope I’m right about him not hurting me.  “I have to try Peter, I have to give it a shot,” it’s not something I normally put myself out for, but dad and Scott would, I always try to be a better person to think what they’d do, I hate disappointing them, and it has something to do with how that little girl tried to help me, to protect me.  “I have to try.”

 

“You won’t succeed,” He says and then looks over towards the exit, “Perhaps Mr Williams will be able to explain it to you, and then we are going home,” there’s a note of finality on his voice, “Do not make me force you to go home.”

 

“Fine,” I grunt it at him and turn to see Mr Williams walking over to us looking annoyingly put together in his very expensive suit, he still looks too young but if he’s a ghoul and has to have a dead body to live in he might as well start young.  “Hey Mr Williams,” I give him a short wave and then cross my arms again.

 

“Alpha Stiles, I heard you’d come down to breakfast, I hope you’re feeling better today,” it’s so weird, I can see the body’s mouth move and hear the words come out, but the thing inside the body, the thing that is actually Mr Williams face is sitting more or less in the middle of the chest and it mouths the words too, it’s very off putting.

 

“Yeah, a bit better, thanks for helping rescue me and keeping Peter out of trouble until he could get to me,” I’m polite because the guy is my lawyer and I never want to piss him off, ever.  “Um Peter says that the whole Clan has to die? I mean there’s a way to save the kids right?”

 

The ghoul in front of me stops acting like a human and the body it’s using slumps in strange places, then the head shakes, “No Alpha Stiles, there is no way to ‘save’ any of them, they are all guilty, and they will all pay.”

 

“But…” I protest and wave my hands around a bit, “They’re kids and they tried to help me, to save me, doesn’t that count?  Can’t I testify on their behalf or something?”  There’s always something, there has to be.

 

“I’m sorry Alpha,” and I know I’m not going to win when Mr Williams actually bows to me, “Your compassion and mercy,” yeah like I have those, “Does you credit, your concern for the children is admirable,” Blah, blah, blah but it’s not changing his mind.

 

“But,” I say tiredly and scrub at my face, damn it I was having a good day too, I was happily shoving the whole Martin thing out of the way, getting on with my life, a life with Peter, and it really was turning out better than I could have ever hoped for, and now this.

 

“But the lore is the lore, this lore was created for a reason, a very good reason, it is never broken, no matter the circumstances, only a Mate could survive this ruling, and the Third Clan have no Mates here,” he looks a little sad and gives me one of the most awkward shoulder pats I’ve ever had, “I’m sorry Alpha Stiles, we will take the names of the children and make sure that all know they upheld the honour of their Clan that they alone showed true hospitality to a Mate.”

 

And they’ll still be dead.

 

Crap.

 

Pissed at everyone I lean on the edge of a handy table and kick the nearest chair, I’m not kicking it hard, it barely even moves, that kind of reminds me of how I live with Peter, no matter what I do or how hard I kick all I do is hurt myself.

 

Sighing I wonder what the hell to do next, gazing around the room I wait for inspiration to strike except I spot Chris Argent leaning up against a wall as he casually checks over one of his guns.  For a second I get ready to yell and I know my heart has sped up when I notice I can see through him.

 

He’s imaginary?

 

“We’ve already had this conversation before,” he says not even bothering to look up at me, “You were in shock, not thinking, then you howled for Peter.”

 

It’s vague and blurry, but I sort of remember something, and then something else about my dream Pack, something about them and Peter?  What was it?

 

“Batman,” Erika is near Chris now, “Come on, stop distracting yourself, focus, you can save the rugrags, well rugwolves,” she laughs at her own joke, “Find the thread like you did with the souls, and pull, unravel it.”

 

Unravel what?  How?

 

She blows at an errant blonde curl, “That’s why I’m imaginary and you’re real, come on Stiles, put the pieces together, and when they don’t fit you don’t have the right pieces.”

 

That’s not a huge amount of help and she shrugs and vanishes even as Chris wavers and then breaks up just as I hear Peter growling behind me.


	13. Chapter 13

Confused over my subconscious and how it uses Erika to annoy me instead of help me I glance over my shoulder to see Peter wolfing out.  Oh crap.  Now what’s set him off?

 

“Peter?” I spin all the way around and hug him, “What’s wrong?” The only other real person in the room is Mr Williams, we’re completely alone, even the waiter is gone.

 

“Mine,” Peter’s growl is low and threatening, and he’s glaring at the spot where two of my dream Pack were standing, if Chris counts as Pack, I’m not sure if an imaginary werewolf hunter is allowed to join an imaginary werewolf Pack, even if it is my dream Pack and… I give up and leave it alone for now.

 

“Yours,” I tell him and his red eyes flick to mine and stay there.  He studies me and it’s not like it was first thing today, it’s not a nice studying, it’s more of a predator studying prey looking for a weakness.

 

“We are going to leave now,” he growls it out, “You will leave quietly without fuss, we will drive home, I will cook for us, and we will finish our honeymoon in peace.  Do you understand?”

 

“Peter,” I don’t know how to say this so I wrack my brain for something and then say, “Peter, I really need for you to see something through my eyes, like we did before? Remember with the t-shirt?  I need you to see my problem and help me fix it,” hopefully that will appeal to the genius inside of him, he likes to show off his intelligence, and having someone like Peter working with me will help me solve whatever it is my subconscious is trying to get me to solve.

 

“Problem?” He’s not unwofling and he’s still studying me.

 

“Yeah, something about this whole mess stinks, something’s wrong, really wrong, not a little wrong, but big we’re going to be fighting for our lives wrong,” and I realise I mean it, something’s totally off about all of this.

 

“Then we should leave now and let the New York Packs sort it out,” Peter isn’t offering to help me and his eyes dart back over my shoulder and I’m guessing to where my Pack were standing, like he knows someone was there.

 

Floundering I don’t know how to make him listen to me when I see a very unhappy Derek far behind Peter, “Use me as the example, use Kate, use chess as a symbol, and be careful.” He’s hinting that I should use the example of a teen boy suddenly meeting a mysterious beautiful woman and how it leads to a family dying and onto how I got mixed up in the supernatural. A small moment that snowballs into an avalanche.

 

And I will be careful, I don’t know what’s going on and I only have an unhappy Peter as back up, things are so not good right now, I have no intention of running headlong into anything. But when have my intentions counted for anything?

 

I must have stared at Derek for too long because Peter pivots and growls at thin air, Derek having broken up and vanished.  Oh crap Peter knows, somehow he knows about them, another vague memory surfaces, he was washing me and I was babbling, I may have babbled about my Pack. 

 

Double crap.

 

“He’s mine!” Peter all but roars it and I’m suddenly pressed against his chest, when the hell did he move?  “Mine, all mine, I will not tolerate sharing you with anyone.”

 

Oh god he’s not been this bad since the fight with Marianne.

 

I really don’t want to get bruised like I did then but it worked at calming him down, so I pull the layers away from my neck and offer it up to him, “Yours Peter, I’m yours, I Mated you, I married you, I’m yours, all yours.”  Only he doesn’t bite or mark me, he keeps growling and when he does lower his head he sniffs my skin but doesn’t mark me.

 

“Alpha Peter,” Mr Williams hasn’t moved he’s where he was originally, “Is there a problem?”  He’s not looking at Peter he’s looking around the room faintly puzzled and uncertain.

 

“Stiles is mine,” Peter’s still growling and I pat him with my hands while I nuzzle him with my nose, “Mine, all mine.”

 

Flicking rapidly through my past encounters with him I try to focus on all the times he’s shown jealousy or acted shitty and it turned out to be jealousy.  Nothing shows me how to calm him down, in the past all I had to do was acknowledge our relationship and he was fine again, but I’m wrapped around him and making all the right moves and he’s still snarling at thin air.

 

“Stiles,” It’s Lydia, “Stiles you might have to have to distract him with sex,” no I can’t, I can’t go through that.

 

Swallowing my natural reaction to run screaming from sex, I try pressing kisses to his shoulder and then to his neck, kissing him worked last time. I offer my neck to him, I murmur “Yours,” to him over and over again. He’s not calming down, instead his body is bulking up, his face is shifting, he’s about to wolf out totally, and Peter as a fully shifted Alpha is scary as fuck and he’s totally unpredictable right now.

 

If I can’t use our relationship to get any kind of control over him then I’m so screwed, Peter’s dangerous on a good day, on a bad day I’m fairly certain that people could easily wind up dead, I really don’t want to be one of those people.

 

Mr Williams is retreating from the room, there’s no one else here, and I have no idea what options I have left open to me so I roll my eyes at how this shit happens to me and I follow Lydia’s advice as the sound of ripping cloth gets louder, I liked that t-shirt as well.

 

Well I try to follow Lydia’s advice, I’m not very good at this, there was only Derek before Brad and it’s not like I was subtle.  Wiggling an arm downwards I just grip him in the crotch department and press.  Holy mother of god don’t let him think I’m attacking him.  Trying to remember how I used to like to touch myself I sort of rub him there and suddenly Peter goes very still and quiet. The thing under my hand is swelling rapidly and then Peter’s hips buck a fraction of an inch as he whines into my neck.

 

His body is shrinking, going human, this is working, only I’ve now got an aroused Peter on my hands, I’ve survived him raping me before I just hope I can survive him now and convince him to use lube.

 

“Stiles,” he’s sniffing me, “You smell of fear Stiles,” his voice is going lower and he’s getting harder against my hand, “You smell so good like this Stiles, I can think of so many ways I could make you scream right now,” for once I keep my mouth shut and stay as close to him as I can.

 

Abruptly he moves away from me and I wobble as I was leaning into him, his eyes are red and his mouth has too many teeth, but he’s calmer, a lot calmer.  Running his fingers through his hair his eyes fade to blue and he’s back to studying me.

 

Slowly he extends his hand to me and I don’t need Lydia standing off to one side to tell me I have to take his hand.  My knees are a little weak as I walk over and take his hand, I even twist my hand so our fingers interlink.

 

“Good, that’s good Stiles,” He’s smiling at me and I get to watch the real face of Peter get swallowed up by a fake happy one.  “You must never try to leave me like that again Stiles, you’re mine now, and I keep what’s mine.”

 

Now probably isn’t the time but I point out, “I wasn’t leaving you Peter, I didn’t mean to make you think I was leaving you, I wanted you to listen to me first,” I squeeze his hand and then put my other hand on top of our twined hands.  “I’ll work on that, I’ll do it better next time Peter, will you work on it too?”

 

Please let him be focusing on us, if he does that I can sometimes push him in the direction I want to go.

 

His hand squeezes back and he lets a smile sit on his lips, the smile isn’t even close to being in his eyes, “Yes Stiles I’ll work on it too.”

 

I breathe out and let some of my tension drain out of me, and then I deliberately move closer to him and lean into his body, his other arm comes around and settles on my waist.  That is a good sign, a very good sign.

 

“Okay,” I nod into the top of his shoulder, “We’re good, we’re okay,” and by okay I mean he’s back in control, and I mean that in more ways than one, the man is a control freak and he’s fixated on me, how is this my life?

 

“Yes we’re okay,” he says and then asks, “Did I hurt you? I know I frightened you but I didn’t hurt you did I?”

 

It really does speak volumes about my life that I shake my head having already catalogued any injuries, “No Peter, you didn’t hurt me,” and he was strangely careful in a wolfing out kind of way.

 

“Good, that’s good, I never want to hurt you Stiles, you’re everything to me,” and he’s back to normal.


	14. Chapter 14

We just stand there and I let him hold me and sniff into my neck, I’m not sure how to press my point about investigating things happening in New York without him losing his shit again.  Instead I concentrate on cuddling him and keeping as calm as I can, if my scents are calmer he’ll be calmer, at least I hope he’ll be calmer.

 

It’s not long until he gets a little restless, which is weird, he’s a total snuggler, but he moves away from me and then holds his hand out to me.  I don’t get it and walk over to him, taking his hand I let him pull me into a hug.  If he wanted a hug why did he move away?

 

I’m baffled until he does it again, and again.

 

He’s testing me.

 

He also ‘rewards’ me each time I come over to him with hugs and soft kisses and murmurs about how amazing and great I am.  He’s laying it on a bit thick but I do get the lesson he’s trying to teach me, no more refusing to take his hand.

 

We’re almost back to the same spot we started at when my dream Derek materialises and says, “They’re bringing mountain ash, go.”

 

Mindful of how often Derek does that and then trouble follows right on his heels I run at Peter and grab his hand.  The mountain ash won’t hurt me, but it will contain Peter, and if he’s captured then there’s no one to protect me.  “Come on, we have to go,” I search for an exit that isn’t the main one and my eyes are drawn to the kitchens, it helps that Jackson is standing there gesturing to me.

 

Leaping forward I’m yanked back by Peter, “Stiles?” He’s frowning, “Your heartbeat’s much faster,” he’s not even looking around he’s staring at me.

 

“Peter,” Oh god please don’t let him freak out about my dream Pack, “Sometimes my imaginary friends appear with warnings, don’t freak out,” his eyes are glowing red again, “They just told me ‘they’re bringing mountain ash’, so we really need to go now, okay?”  I step towards the kitchen door and tug on his hand, “Come on Peter, we don’t have a lot of time.”

 

He stubbornly refuses to move and his mouth is filling with extra teeth.

 

“Oh god Peter,” I growl at him for once, “We don’t have time for this, you can get pissy and jealous later, we have to go, now.”

 

And then his head jerks up and he tilts it, which means we’re out of time.

 

Strolling into the room is Mr Williams and a few other men I’ve never seen before in my life, but I know they’re ghouls.  And with them is the lady doctor and the image of the oak tree is so strong that I can’t see reality around me for a few seconds.  When my vision snaps back Scott is standing near her sniffing, he points at her, “She has the mountain ash Stiles.”

 

I made a mountain ash barrier once, and then I had to break it so that Derek could save Scott from Allison’s crazy mom, hopefully I can break any barrier the doctor makes too.  I step in front of Peter and get ready to protect him so he can protect me.

 

Wow, I never thought I’d ever be doing that.

 

“Hey Mr Williams,” I give a little wave, “Thanks for bringing the doctor for me, she can okay me for the shock and stuff, and then Peter can stop fussing and worrying over me,” I pretend Peter didn’t wolf out and nearly lose control and that they aren’t standing over there with mountain ash.

 

“Alpha Stiles,” the ghoul is studying me carefully and the other ghouls all fan out around him, that’s not good.  “Alpha Peter,” his gaze goes to Peter now and I stiffen and try to get in the way.  “Is everything under control?” And there are so many ways to take that question.

 

“Yes,” Peter moves closer to my back and moulds himself there the heat from his body radiating out and into my space.  “Quite under control, after all Stiles is here, my Mate is more than capable of calming me.”

 

No one relaxes we’re still at a standoff.

 

“That’s good to know,” Mr Williams’ smile is utterly false, “And is Alpha Stiles still in good health?  No additional injuries he may have gained?”  If he wasn’t a ghoul and therefore already dead, at least I think they’re dead, I’d say he had a death wish.

 

“Stiles is fine,” Peter’s voice goes hard, “I frightened him, but that’s all, and my Stiles is far stronger than he appears,” one of Peter’s arms snakes around me to pull me sharply back against him. “I would never deliberately harm my Stiles, he’s everything to me.”

 

“So,” the doctor eases her hands into her pockets and Scott stiffens beside her so I stiffen and keep my eyes on her.  Peter doesn’t react but his thumb twitches so I know he’s paying attention as the doctor continues, “There won’t be another Houston incident.”

 

I sort of want to know what the hell happened in Houston that everyone else seems to know about and then freaks out over, but I also don’t want to know.

 

“As long as Stiles is with me, is mine and mine alone, and no one hurts him, I doubt there will be another Houston incident,” Peter is getting seriously pissed off.  “But if I or Stiles are carjacked like I was then, I will make no promises as to my actions.  I will accept no harm done to us, and any damage done to him will be avenged.”

 

The doctor’s hands come out of her pockets and I get ready to run, only they’re empty and the ghouls are relaxing, things are no longer at a high threat level but I watch as Chris circles them, Derek sniffs them, and dad studies them.  Only when they all nod do I relax too.

 

Behind me Peter nuzzles into my neck and says, “My Mate is extremely upset that the actions of one werewolf are enough to bring down a whole Pack.  While I want to protect him I know he won’t let this go.” I startle and wait to see what he says next, I don’t understand why he’s suddenly giving in and letting me have my way.  “I’d feel better about it if you could escort us to the judgment chambers, after all you’ve already proved yourselves to be such valiant defenders of his safety,” there’s a few tones in his words I’m not even going to go near, if I ignore them they might go away.

 

All the ghouls are staring at me and Mr Williams nods, “If that is what Alpha Stiles wants.”

 

“Sure,” I nod and move one of my hands up to touch Peter’s resting on my stomach, “As long as you aren’t too busy, I wouldn’t want to pull you away from anything important,” I give them an out and wait for them to take it.  I’ll be able to investigate better with just Peter, he’s incredibly sneaky, and I think we need sneaky right now.

 

“It’s no trouble,” Mr Williams says and suddenly I have an escort.  “If you’re ready we can go now.”

 

“Awesome,” I mutter and move so I can take Peter’s left hand in my right.  I can learn lessons and now is not the time to upset him or make him think I’m leaving him.

 

“After you,” Peter waves a hand magnanimously at them and tugs me forward, he leans over towards me, “If you start getting upset Stiles I will carry you out of there and then we will go straight home,” he says it with concern in his voice but his eyes flash so I hear the threat, or promise, in his words.

 

“Yes Peter,” I fake submissiveness but I doubt I’ve fooled him.

 

It’s an interesting group that troops out of the restaurant where we ate breakfast and through the hotel into one of the employees’ only areas.  From there we trek down some stairs into the basement and I crane my neck around to stare at all the stuff kept in storage down here.  There’s a touch of damp and I vaguely recall that New York has to keep its foundations pumped clear of water or it floods, the ground here is extremely wet.

 

We go down one more level, the stairs here are guarded and the werewolves don’t bother hiding what they are from us.  What’s really weird is the low bow they give me, like I’m special, I nod back and squeeze Peter’s fingers when his own eyes glow red.

 

At the bottom of these stairs I can see a small room, it’s empty with a pair of double doors at the end.  The air is humid and I can smell water, a few shallow puddles have built up on the stone floor and there are drains strategically placed to take the water away.

 

“Ready?” Peter asks me and I nod even though I have no idea what to expect or what I’m going to do.


	15. Chapter 15

One of the ghouls knocks on the big doors, they open a crack and he has a hurried quiet conversation, I have no idea what they’re saying but then one of the doors is opening fully and I see Isaac dart through them and then say, “Wow, that’s a big room.”

 

Peter takes the lead and I stick close to him, not that I have any other choice, not with the way he’s keeping hold of my hand.  And then we’re through the door and Isaac wasn’t kidding this is one big room.

 

I look around and estimate that it’s nearly as big as the building above it, there are large stone pillars spaced evenly around it, they must take the weight of the hotel.  The damp, humid air is overly warm and stifling.  I sneeze as it assaults my nose.

 

The room is also crowded and packed full of people, how the hell are they breathing down here? 

 

That might have something to do with how hushed it is in here, no one is really talking but they are standing close and there’s a lot of hugging going on.  These must be the Third Clan Pack members.

 

Gripping Peter’s hand tightly I follow silently as the ghouls lead us to the far end of the giant room.  People around us stop and stare as we pass and I can feel the weight of those eyes building up on my shoulders.  Maybe this was a bad idea, except my subconscious wouldn’t have bothered me over nothing.

 

Reaching the end I find a raised area, like a mini stage, and dream Derek is glaring at one of the men there.  He’s a fairly plain man and he’s smiling.  He’s wrapped in chains and he’s smiling.  Derek sniffs him and then lopes over towards me.  I try not to stare at him but Peter’s starting to side eye me so I wrap my other hand around his as Derek gets as near to me as he can with Peter here.

 

“The werewolf in chains is Martin,” Derek’s eyes are glowing red, “And you’re right he’s far too happy, he’s smells of urine and happiness.”

 

Dad flickers in next to Derek, “And he knows he’s going to die painfully?”

 

“Yes,” Derek nods, “It’s been explained to him.”

 

All of us stare back at Martin who is far too happy for a man that’s been told he’s going to die, I wonder briefly if I can use insanity as a plea to save the other werewolves from sharing his fate.

 

“Hale,” The name is spat from somewhere else on the stage.  I get to see a man the size of Jenny’s ex stride towards us.  Seriously how are guys built that tall and that wide?  I’m sure they ate growth hormones as kids and then lived in a gym for years, because muscles like that are unfair, my own muscles aren’t even close to being mini versions of them.

 

Dark hair and red eyes come at us and the ghouls move to intercept.  The guy clearly wasn’t expecting that and he skids to a halt as another man on the stage says, “Daniel, don’t.”  This man is smaller, blond, and he’s hugging a woman with darker skin, those beautiful brown eyes like Scott’s and she’s the spitting image of the girl that tried to protect me in the nursery, the same girl that’s curled into the man and the woman.

 

“Marcie,” Lydia says and I nod absently, of course she’d remember the girl’s name.

 

Daniel twists back to the blond man, “Ryan, he’s got no right to come down here and gloat, he’s one sick son of a bitch, or have you forgotten what he did in Houston?”

 

By now Marcie has turned her attention to us and she’s been crying, even as a werewolf there are signs on her face.  She’s so young and she still tries to give me a brave smile and a wave.  I use my left hand to give her a small wave back before I grip hold of Peter again, oh god this was such a freaking bad idea, and I get to see a very smug almost gloating expression float over Martin’s face.

 

Erika was right there is something seriously wrong here, but I don’t know if it’s because of another insane werewolf or something else.

 

“What are you going to do Daniel?” Ryan asks tiredly, “Attack him and get your Pack killed too?  Stop being an ass, you said you’d be here for me, to support me, this is hard enough bro, don’t make it worse.”

 

With one last growl at Peter, Daniel storms back to Ryan as Derek says, “Ryan is the Alpha of the Third Clan, Daniel is the Alpha of the Forth,” he’s pointing at others around the stage and I absently note that he’s saying all the Clan Alphas are here, something to do with witnessing and making sure all the Third Clan pay the punishment.

 

Frowning at Martin I can’t work out why he’s so happy, in fact he’s beaming now and watching as two of those Derek pointed out as Alphas walk towards him with their claws extended.

 

“Wait,” Mr Williams says and waves towards me, “Alpha Stiles would like to see if there is any way he can save the Third Clan,” Martin frowns at that, “We’ve tried to explain that this is the Lore and that there is no way to circumnavigate it but he insisted on trying,” and that smug look is back on Martins’ face.

 

“Alpha Stiles,” Marcie lets go of the woman who must be her mother and darts around Daniel to skid to a stop in front of me.  She has tears in her eyes again but she’s standing tall as she says, “Thank you for trying to save us, but the Lore is the Lore, Mates are too special, and Martin broke the Lore.”  She falters slightly and my vision swirls as her Beta amber is partly overwhelmed by Alpha red, “We are Martin’s Pack, so we must pay the price for his failure, no one in this Pack is above the Lore.”

 

“But you protected me,” I point out, “You and the other kids, you did your best…”

 

She’s smiling at me and reaches out to pat my hands that are clasping Peter’s hand.  “But Alpha Stiles, you tried to protect us first, you told us you would help us, that you would make sure we got home safe to our families and Packs.  You thought of us before yourself,” and she’s making me sound good but that’s Scott, or my dad, not me.

 

“Marcie,” I choke it out and then I can’t speak because she’s hugging me and she’s so fucking small, she’s barely taller than my stomach and she’s going to die today because of Martin.  Automatically my left hand lets go of Peter and I put my arm around her.

 

“Don’t cry Alpha Stiles,” her voice is so soft and she’s staring up at me and there really isn’t anything I can do to save her.  She moves so she’s staring up at Peter, “Alpha Peter?”

 

“Yes,” Peter’s mouth is full of teeth and I should be pushing her away but she’s a little miniature person and I can’t just push her away.

 

“Please take good care of Alpha Stiles,” she’s so serious as she looks up at him, “His Mating mark glowed really brightly when he showed it to us,” she gives him a big watery smile, “He’s very special.”

 

Shockingly Peter kneels down to look her in the eyes, “I know, I’ve known for a long time now how very special he is,” and then Peter joins in the hug.  “Thank you for protecting my Mate for me, he said you and the other children did your best.”

 

If I’m that special I should be able to save her.

 

“We tried Alpha Peter,” she sniffs the air, “He smells better now, he smells like him and you.  It’s a good smell, all I could smell before was Martin and that’s not a good smell, we don’t like him,” she growls softly.

 

“Yes he smelt terrible, but he smells amazing now,” Peter agrees, “His scent was hidden from me until I could help him wash,” I notice Peter glosses over how he washed me and I pretty much did nothing. 

 

Wait.

 

My scent was hidden from an Alpha? And not just any Alpha, it was hidden from Peter, the guy who hunted me down and made me come live with him clear across the country from my family.  The guy that is so fucking obsessed with me he has copies of my birth certificate and other photos from my childhood in his crazy stalker cupboard.

 

My gaze narrows onto Martin and my brain is whirling away as I try to unravel the puzzle of just what the hell is going on.


	16. Chapter 16

With Marcie and Peter hugging me and each other I glare at Martin and watch as both Scott and Derek sniff around the guy and wrinkle their noses, apparently he smells really bad to them.  The other wolves are standing back holding their noses and refusing to get too close.

 

Then Scott shoves his nose really close to Martin and motions to Derek.  I wonder what he’s noticed.  Derek sniffs where Scott shows him and then the pair of them exchange a very pointed look and go in for another sniff.

 

The other werewolves hurry over and they smell the exact same spot, then they all go over to Ryan and sniff him.  Whatever it is they can smell is making them excited and Scott gives me a thumbs up.

 

“Stiles?” Peter is getting to his feet gracefully, no floundering for him. The hand holding mine squeezes slightly and I know I should be paying him attention but Scott is all but dancing towards me.

 

“Stiles,” My imaginary bro crows, “He doesn’t smell like Ryan’s Pack, there’s a different smell where his Pack scent should be.”

 

Really?

 

Derek stalks up behind Scott, “Really.  His scent is wrong to be part of this Pack. You have to work to smell it under the urine, but it’s there.”

 

So if he’s not part of the Third Clan then they don’t have to suffer the same fate as him.  A big grin breaks out on my face and I want to dance in place but Marcie is still clinging to me as I look straight at Peter and ask, “If Martin isn’t part of the Third Clan then only he pays for attacking me, right?”

 

Mr Williams clears his throat, “Alpha Stiles, even if the Alpha of the Third Clan were to disavow Martin right now, the damage has already been done.  He was part of the Pack when he attacked you, so the Pack will pay.”

 

I ignore Mr Williams and keep looking at Peter, a Peter who frowns slightly and asks, “Stiles?  What have you thought of?”

 

“Martin mostly smells of pee right?” I see Peter nod and feel Marcie nod against me.  “And he covered me in pee and,” I pause before adding, “Other stuff.  To the point that even you couldn’t track me by scent and I’m guessing used our Mating mark to zero in on me.  And I know for a fact that if anybody could track me by scent it would be you.”

 

Acknowledging that with a nod Peter says, “That’s true, but what does that have to do with Martin and his Pack bond…” Peter goes stock still and drops my hand, he snarls at Marcie, “Keep him safe,” and moves towards Martin at a run.

 

In other words you blink and you’d have missed him.  He circles behind a visibly upset Martin and starts to sniff.  Other than when he’s shifted into his Alpha form I’ve never seen him this dog like before.  He finds exactly the same spot Scott did and breathes in deeply, then he goes over to Ryan and does the same thing.

 

The Alpha of the Third Clan holds still but gives Peter a puzzled look.

 

“Hmm,” Peter’s face morphs into his superior smug expression, “I see your point Stiles, what was your first clue to suspect him?”

 

And Peter just confirmed it, which means the other Alphas will be able to as well.  “He was too happy,” I tell Peter, “He’s going to die and take this Pack down with him, he shouldn’t be happy.”

 

“True,” Peter ambles over to me and pats Marcie on the head, “Thank you for watching him for me,” pulling me into his arms he kisses me so softly, “So clever my little Raven child.” He smirks at Mr Williams, “It seems my Mate was right to question the Lore, the Third Clan are innocent and can go free, only Martin will pay for his actions,” a wave of murmurs start up on the room, “Well Martin and his real Pack, whoever they are,” the murmurs rise up to shouts as Peter stands there calmly having just kick started the chaos erupting around us.

 

People are yelling and then Ryan roars so loudly I clamp my hands over my ears and Marcie cowers into my legs.  Peter is unaffected and uses the moment to pull me closer, he doesn’t even try to dislodge Marcie from me.

 

“Enough,” Ryan’s voice is pitched to carry and he stares down at us, “Alphas of the Wolf Creek Stilinski Pack, please explain yourselves,” there’s a touch of hope in his eyes.

 

“It’s quite simple Alpha Ryan,” Of course Peter acts like the others are idiots and riles them up with his tone, “Martin is not part of your Pack, underneath the urine is another Pack’s scent, therefore your Pack is free of this judgement and get to live to see another day.”

 

Ripples of noise start up and then stop at Ryan’s hand motion, “Alpha Peter Stilinski, are you sure of this?  You know the Lore, and Martin swore oath to me, he should be part of my Pack.”

 

Snorting Peter says, “I’m very sure, and Martin’s oath wouldn’t bind him to you if he belonged to another Alpha, he’d still be part of that Pack.  And Stiles is right, Martin hid my Mate’s scent too thoroughly, to the point that I couldn’t track him, that shouldn’t be possible.  Even using urine and sperm,” I flinch at the last word and put my own arm around Peter to press closer to him, “I should have been able to smell Stiles.”

 

The ghouls are going into a huddle and Martin is standing in his chains like he’s finally realised he’s being led away to his execution.  “Alpha,” the man’s voice is whiney and instantly puts my back up as he speaks to Ryan, “Alpha why would you listen to them? You took me in, you took my oath, you said I was part of your Pack.”

 

Not once does he say he’s part of the Pack.

 

“Say that you’re part of Alpha Ryan’s Pack,” I glare at Martin, “Say the words in front of all these werewolves and let them listen to your heartbeat, because as long as it stays steady you won’t have lied, but I’m betting it’ll skip all over the place.” He snaps his mouth shut and glares at me, it won’t be the first time an angry werewolf has done that and frankly I’ve seen angrier looks, he’s just pathetic, though now it does beg the question, “If Ryan,” I jerk my free thumb at the Alpha, “Isn’t your Alpha.  Then who is?”

 

For a few seconds Martin’s face is contorted into horrified fear, whoever this mysterious Alpha is he’s terrified of them.

 

It’s also enough to get the other Alphas to sniff Martin and he tries to twist away from them but he’s going nowhere.  They all sniff the same place as Scott and Peter, and then they trot over to Ryan and from the way they all relax and nod they’ve found the same thing.  Martin is not part of the Third Clan, now all we have to do is find out whose Pack he’s part of.

 

Less than ten minutes later the Alphas of New York are huddled with the ghouls and the woman doctor as they discuss how to make Martin talk.  Peter’s already volunteered to torture him and the others are going to try other avenues before going down that road.  Martin sneered a lot at Peter until he reminded him of Houston since then the guy’s been really quiet and keeps shooting Peter scared glances.

 

I really don’t want to know about Houston.

 

Marcie being the angel she is got me a chair and is standing with her mom telling her all about the amazing Alpha Stiles, I’m blushing which Peter is finding hilarious.  Rubbing at my eyes, the air is getting to them in here, I blink as my other vision flashes in and out, and with it I can see the various Pack bonds shimmering in the dull electric lights down here.

 

Most of the bonds are pure like the ones I saw between Marianne and her Pack.  The one between Peter and me is red and twisted up like his energy, though my warmer energy is twined around it too.  The one coming out of Martin is even more twisted up than Peter’s and heads straight towards a wall and vanishes outside somewhere.

 

“West,” Chris is studying it, “Its heading west.”  That must be the direction Martin’s Alpha is.

 

Getting up I pad over to the bond as Peter calls my name, I don’t know why but I have to touch it.  I reach out to it and it’s warm in my hand.  Martin jerks in his chains and stares at me, “What did you do?”

 

“It’s your Pack bond,” I lift it up closer to my face, “It runs in that direction,” I point off to where it vanishes through the wall.  “This thing is seriously screwed up.”

 

“Stiles put that down,” Peter is right next to me, “Put it down now,” he’s partly wolfed out and he looks scared.

 

And I can hear the sea, but it’s not right, it’s wrong.  “Can you hear that?” I ask, “It sounds like water on a beach, but it’s not right.”

 

“Stiles,” Peter’s hands are around my wrist where I’m holding the bond, “Let it go, you let it go right now.”

 

“But Peter, I just want to know what’s on the other end of it,” If anything Peter looks even more afraid and then I’m violently yanked sideways as the sound of beating wings deafens me.  A bright light makes me close my eyes and when it fades I open them again to find myself alone in a room I’ve never been in before.

 

To my left is a big window, I’ve stood on both sides of a window like this when I’ve visited my dad at work.  It lets me look out over a large stretch of water but anyone on the outside wouldn’t be able to see in.  From the other side of the window the soft whispering sound of water washing up a beach reaches me and I wonder where the hell I am or how the hell I got here.

 

Glancing around to get my bearings I realise I’m hovering above the floor and that I can see through my legs, holding up my hands I can see through them too.

 

Aw crap, what the hell did I do?


	17. Chapter 17

Hanging about a foot above the floor I take my time looking around.  There isn’t much in this room.  The big window looks out over the water, the floor is tiled with a drain right in the middle of it.  The walls are also tiled and to one side there are big manacles dangling down from the ceiling, there’s still blood on the metal.

 

This is not a good place to be.

 

The door is wooden and I try walking towards it but go nowhere, I’m right where I started.  Glaring at the door I blink when I realise I’m floating towards it and then through it.  The corridor on the other side is mostly dark with a few emergency lights illuminating just enough to make it seriously creepy.

 

I have absolutely no idea where I am or how to leave, but I know I was following the Pack bond from Martin all the way here.  I jolt forward down most of the hallway and there in front of me is another twisted up Pack bond, I don’t know if it’s Martin’s or not but it’s going into a room to my left and up.

 

Another jolt and I’m floating in a bedroom.  The same type of window looks out over the water, only I can tell from the angle I’m higher up and there’s the remains of a balcony outside.  The main feature of the bedroom is a huge four poster bed, red fabric is pulled back letting me see the two occupants on the bed, but what draws my eyes is that the bed used to be decorated and most of the decorations have been ripped out leaving holes in the wood.  At the base of the bed is a large oval area, a tiny piece of bright blue stone is lodged in a crack and there are numerous scratch marks around it like someone tried to get rid of it.  In the middle of the oval someone’s taken the time to claw ‘Klaus’ into the wood.

 

On the bed one of the figures stirs and I pay more attention to them and sort of float around the room towards the window.  There’s a werewolf in the bed and he looks like Peter, a monstrous horrific mix of man and wolf.  Lying next to the werewolf is a feminine shape but I can’t see her because she’s covered in blood, blood that flows sluggishly and isn’t hers, it’s like she stole the blood from other people, and I remember the manacles in the other room, somehow I doubt the people gave the blood willingly.

 

She’s the one who’s stirring and then she’s staring right at me, like she can see me, before I can work out how to flee from her she’s picking up a long stick , a long stick that’s covered in bloodied feathers, lots of different types of feathers.  She mutters something at me and I get to see one of the feathers twist on the stick, it’s a long feather with a big eye on the end, maybe a peacock’s feather?

 

The eye seems to open and both of us gasp, I don’t think she meant to do that, the eye has a red pupil and it also stares right at me, it reminds me of Derek’s Alpha eyes.

 

Grunting out words that make my ears hurt the woman shakes the stick at me again, while next to her the werewolf stirs, and then something smashes into me and I’m thrown backwards.  Instinctively I cover my face with my arms and brace in the foetal position as I’m catapulted away from her.

 

Wind rushes past me and then just as suddenly it stops and I tentatively uncurl to find I’m still floating about a foot off the ground, but this time in a forest as the sun is either rising or setting.  The forest feels a little bit like home and for a second I wonder how I got to Wolf Creek, except there’s someone sitting at the base of a tree staring up at me.

 

“Derek?” I stare at him wondering how my dream Derek found me, which is stupid because he’s a figment of my imagination and I float closer to him because he’s still staring at me and his jaw has dropped open.

 

In the weak light I can see he’s lost weight, there are circles under his eyes, he looks exhausted like he’s not sleeping.  There’s a bandage on his left arm and blood has already started to soak through it in red blotches. Even his hair is flat and lifeless.  Why would my dream Derek be so run down?

 

Floating through a few stray branches I reach his side and automatically put my hand out to touch him.  I expect my hand to go through him, he’s not real after all, but my hand touches him and he jumps, his skin is cool through the dirty and torn t-shirt he’s wearing.

 

“Stiles?” He shakes his head, “God what did that witch do to me? You’re not real.  You left.  You don’t have big wings on your back,” his eyes close and he rubs at his face.

 

“Derek?” Okay my dream Derek wouldn’t say that he’s linked to me because I made him.  This can’t be real? Can it?

 

“Stiles, he has to run!” And that’s my Derek, he’s see through and doesn’t look so worn down.  “There are hunters coming,” there are always hunters coming in Beacon Hills.

 

“Derek get up, there are hunters, come on,” I shake his shoulder and I really want to know why I can touch him.

 

Instead of running he stares up at me and his eyes do that mournful thing like you’re looking right into his soul and it’s a kicked puppy’s soul, I just want to hug him and keep him safe.  Then he flinches as my dream Derek flinches too, my Derek frowns, “That sounds like Chris Argent, and he screamed.”

 

Okay that’s not good, that’s really not good.

 

My dream Chris materialises cursing and panting, “Exactly how far did you run off to?” He asks me and then whips his head around, “We can’t stay here, it’s not safe.”

 

The rest of my dream Pack turn up and they all stare where my Derek is staring, then Scott swallows, “That was Mr Argent wasn’t it.”

 

“Why would Chris be screaming?” I ask them, a few of them run off in that direction the rest stay with me.

 

“The hunters have him,” the other Derek says, my hand is still on his shoulder and he prods it with one of his fingers like he’s checking to see if I’m real, “They turned up and took over, we’ve been trying to get rid of them for the last month,” wow that’s more than he normally says.  “They retaliated and put Chris in a circle of mountain ash four days ago. They keep hurting him knowing Allison won’t leave him, so Scott won’t leave her and we won’t leave them.  We get to play hide and seek with the hunters and when we lose they shoot us.”

 

“So break the circle,” Lydia doesn’t sound impressed and I don’t think Derek can hear her so I pass on the message.

 

He judges me with his eyebrows, “Deaton tried, the witch was waiting for him and cast a spell at him, he’s unconscious and we can’t reach him either, none of the humans can break the circle, something’s protecting it.”  He scrubs at his face again, “She’s draining Chris, taking his life energy and using it to fuel the spell keeping us from him, and now we’re weaker she’s draining us too.”

 

I still have no idea how to move at the moment or even if this is real, but I have to see for myself, I have to see what’s hurting my Pack, even though they aren’t really my Pack, because I was never really part of it, never enough for them.

 

The forest flickers around me and I’m on the edge of a clearing.  In the middle is a big metal X, and a shirtless Chris Argent is lashed to it.  He’s feebly moving in the restraints and then someone, a woman as covered in blood as the last one I saw, prods him with a stick and Chris is screaming, he sags unconscious in the restraints and I can see blood flow through the air from him to her.  She then throws a hand out and it flows out to a big black ring that’s all around them and that links to a smaller ring that’s wrapped around a small uprooted oak tree, there’s something off about the tree but I don’t know what.

 

I’m vaguely aware of twisted up butter yellow shapes moving around the outer edge of the circle and I can see a few members of my dream Pack testing the circle but they seem unable to cross over the boundary line.  My dream Scott trots over to me, “The circles covered over with that blood, we can’t break the circle and haven’t tried too hard we don’t want her to realise we’re here.  What do you want us to do now?”

 

I really don’t know.

 

Is this even real?

 

The rest of my Pack turn up and they stare at the circle too, we’re all stumped as to how to break it when the blood covered woman starts laughing, “Oh how droll, the little broken puppies went and got themselves an angel, a little raven winged angel,” and she’s staring right at me.  It didn’t end well the last time the other blood covered woman saw me.


	18. Chapter 18

Somewhat helplessly I hover just above the floor of the clearing and wonder how to get out of this mess and save people at the same time.  It nearly always comes down to me, all I have to do is think of something.

 

Anything.

 

Only I’m completely baffled and so is my dream Pack.

 

“You can’t do anything you foolish little brat,” the blood covered woman is gloating on the other side of the blood soaked mountain ash circle.  “You shouldn’t have astral projected so far from your body, you’re stretched too thin to do anything but die,” okay so I now know I’m astral projecting and that makes sense but the last part of her sentence isn’t filling me with confidence.

 

I still have no idea how to move so I can’t run as she lifts her hands up and chants words that make my ears hurt, oh god, not again.  I hold my hands up in front of my face and brace for impact.  Something slams into my front and I’m thrown backwards straight into a tree.

 

Grunting at the impact front and back.  I’m dazed for a few seconds and then blink because I’m right on the edge of the clearing, she didn’t force me to go miles away.  In fact she’s standing in the circle with her jaw dropped open staring at me in shock.

 

Shaking my head I automatically reach out to steady myself against the tree and my palm touches the bark of the tree instead of passing through it.  Under my hand I’m suddenly aware of the dark green brown energy that’s sleeping as it waits for the spring sun to wake it up, only it jolts as it senses me there, and then it welcomes me just like the forest in Wolf Creek did.

 

A sense of wonder and joy radiates out from the tree, it shivers down my spine as the land does the equivalent of opening one eye to look at me. The skies above me gaze down upon me and the air rustles the empty branches of the forest in happiness.  Water runs through small twisting streams and into bigger rivers, there’s a lake off in the distance, the sea is singing even further away.  Beacon Hills itself slumbers as butter yellow humans flit about but it senses me too, currents of something giving it greater awareness of its surroundings.

 

And then this surge of power races back towards me whispering my name and booms like thunder through my body.  I vibrate as it fills me up and a thousand voices cry out my name like they’ve missed me and it’s like I’m home, I’m where I belong, and they love me.

 

The noise cuts out and I’m left blinking in the morning sun, I know it’s morning, the land told me it’s morning.  In the circle the woman is cowering back and whimpers, “What’s a Stiles?”

 

Why does everyone ask that?

 

“I am,” I stand up, on thin air because I’m still hovering above the ground.  This time when I examine the circle from the edge of the clearing I can see that the blood is coating the mountain ash so that people can’t touch it, nobody said other things couldn’t and the land itself twists eagerly wanting to help me.

 

It’s such a simple thing, a few mushrooms start to grow, right through the circle and there’s a loud snapping sound as the circle’s power collapses and it’s nothing more than ash on the ground.

 

“No!” The woman screams and then yells, “Quickly you idiots, get into position, the angel broke my circle, they’ll be coming.”  Around me all my dream wolves snap their heads up and listen to something I can’t hear, but I know it’s one of the Beacon Hills Pack howling.

 

Without the mountain ash circle to keep the wolves at bay they’ll be able to get in and rescue Chris, I have no idea what she did with Deaton, hopefully they can find him too, and then I see the flickers of amber in the forest so I know they’re on their way.

 

Amber shapes and a blue shape burst out of the tree line and one solitary red shape, it’s dull almost lifeless and then it transforms into Derek and he draws the fire of the twisted butter yellow hunters as the amber shapes swarm Chris and cut him down.

 

Awesome I totally helped and do a mid-air victory dance, which is when I notice that I’m even more see through than I was earlier, and I watch as my hands fade out to mere wisp before my eyes.

 

A tugging on my right wrist makes me look harder at where it’s slowly fading away, the link I have with Peter is wrapping itself around my wrist, the twisted up red energy and my warm energy bound together and then I’m yanked a good five feet away from the clearing.

 

I’m guessing it’s time to go home, hopefully before I fade completely because that would be bad.

 

But how do I get home?

 

Dream Scott is looking slightly constipated and then suggests, “Why not do what you did when you followed Martin’s Pack bond?  You know grasp it and think about following it?”  And that’s my bro for you, he acts so dumb and then suddenly he blindsides you with something so smart and insightful.  He actually blushes and his mom ruffles his hair, “Mom.”

 

Grasping the bond with what’s left of my right hand, I close my eyes and think about following the bond, about Peter, about my new home.  Around me the land gives one finally whisper of my name and goes back to sleep sad that I’m leaving it again, the wind mournfully sighs my name and the water sobs as it flows to the sea that hurls itself up the beach to wave goodbye.

 

And then the sound of beating wings fills my ears as I hold tight to the bond with Peter to crash back with a jerk and a gasp.  Ow, I ache and I’m tired but I can hear snarling and I think Peter is howling my name but he’s so loud that I snap my eyes open to find him fully shifted into his Alpha shape and crouched over me. His left hand is wrapped around my right arm and our wrists are pressed together, the tugging of our bond is strong and I cough as I breathe in the damp warm air of the giant basement room.

 

The whole room goes silent and I blink as I get double vision, “Stiles?” Is rumbled at me and Peter’s face is lowering to mine.  I’m really glad we spent all that time with Peter frolicking in the woods, I don’t see him as scary to me, I see him as safe.

 

“Peter?” I croak at him and my throat is so dry it triggers off a coughing fit.

 

Big hairy arms gently lift me to a sitting position and I lean into him as I get my breath back.  “Stiles,” Peter’s murmuring my name over and over into my hair as he nuzzles me.

 

“I’m back?” I ask him wanting to confirm that I’m where I’m supposed to be, “Oh god was that real?”  Did I really see Derek?  Was Chris Argent really lashed to a metal cross in Beacon Hills Preserve?

 

“Stiles,” Peter curls around me, “You followed Martin’s Pack bond, you found his Alpha,” There was a name carved into a bed, Klaus, it said Klaus.  “You told us his name and then you held your arms up, screamed and dropped to the ground,” he moves to whisper into my ear, “You left me Stiles,” it’s almost a pain filled whine.

 

“Didn’t mean too,” I slur at him exhausted and wanting to sleep right now, “She pushed me away, so far away, didn’t know how to get back.”

 

There are voices in the background and Peter snarls at them a few times before asking me, “Stiles?  Stiles what woman?”

 

“Woman all covered in blood,” Closing my eyes I snuggle into him, he’s so comfy right now, all warm and safe.  “She woke up and pushed me, I think she stole the blood from other people,” there are ripples of sound in the room and it’s my turn to whine.  “Peter?”

 

“Yes Stiles,” He’s holding me a bit too tightly but he’s so warm.

 

“Tired now,” my head lolls on chest but I have to know something first, “Did we do it?”

 

“Do what Stiles?” His voice is fading out to me.

 

“Save them.  Did we save them?” I’m not sure if I’m talking about the wolves in New York or Beacon Hills.

 

“Yes, yes you saved them,” chases me down into the dark.


	19. Chapter 19

A long line of heat is pressed up against my back and I wiggle down a bit more to tuck the covers closer to me, I don’t want to wake up right now, I feel exhausted, drained, and cold. 

 

Stretched thin and breakable.

 

I try to drift off again but something feels off.

 

Wiggling again I work out what it is, I’m wearing clothes, I never wear clothes in bed with Peter.  Under my cheek the covers are scratchy like horrible blankets, our covers and blankets are soft.  And the bed is so hard, there’s no give at all.

 

Twisting and turning so I can face Peter I push at him so he falls backwards and then I snuggle in with my head on his chest.  Under my ear his heart is beating quickly, not quite racing but it’s enough to wake me up fully.

 

The air smells damp and it’s not pleasant to breathe, I am wrapped up in a horrible scratchy blanket, and the bed is uncomfortable because I’m lying on the stage.  Peter’s back to human again but he’s completely naked with bright red eyes and in the background there are voices that pull my attention away from him.

 

Huddled in a circle are all the ghouls, various werewolves that flicker red, and the lady doctor who’s sometimes a tree.  It looks like an argument is in the process of breaking out.

 

A soft rattle of chains and the way Derek appears in front of me to snarl at where the chains are makes me look.  Martin is still there and he is seriously wounded.  Blood is leaking down from his neck, though I can’t see any cuts on the front.

 

“They read his memories,” Scott’s next to Derek.  “Some of the Alphas thought you were faking and wanted to see who Martin’s Alpha was for themselves. Now they all agree it’s Klaus.”

 

Wow, so I somehow do an out of body experience, find out the name of the Alpha, then get hurled thousands of miles away and they don’t believe me?  Okay so none of it was on purpose and I didn’t even know I could do that… I sigh because no one ever believes me anyway, or listens to me, well apart from Peter and that’s only when he’s not pitching a fit due to jealousy.

 

Speaking of Peter he’s wrapping himself around me and I pillow my head on him and flick the blanket over his waist, I can at the very least act possessive over him to keep him calm.

 

The circle of various supernatural creatures is getting louder, though I can’t make out the words and Peter’s not openly paying them any attention.  Except I have a few options open to me now and I don’t look as Scott sneaks closer to the group, I look at Peter and then press a kiss to his jaw, it’s his turn to wiggle and he manages to defy physics by getting us even closer.

 

I’m also tired so I rest my eyes for a few seconds when my stomach rumbles, loudly.  Loudly enough that the little huddle breaks up and some of them move towards me only to have Peter growl at them.

 

“Alpha Peter,” Mr Williams is one of those that was heading my way, “Alpha Stiles needs food and rest, astrally projecting as far as he did is wearying, he was hundreds of miles from his body, he needs energy.”

 

The blond Alpha Ryan steps up next to Mr Williams, “You will be my honoured guests, you have literally saved us all, I have no way to thank you enough for what you’ve done for us.  And you uncovered Klaus’ plot, because of you the region will stay stable and he won’t be able to launch any attacks.  Please let my Pack show our appreciation, I’ve upgraded your room to one of the suites, stay while we sort this situation out and hunt Klaus down to administer the Lore as he would have had done to us.”

 

What?

 

Dream dad flickers nearby, “They’ve been busy, they picked more up from Martin’s memories than they expected.”

 

Clearly, but what did they pick up?

 

“For now,” Peter gets to his feet and lifts me in his arms at the same time, yelping manfully I grip his naked shoulders and wonder if I can thump him for being an ass for not warning me.  “Please have someone show us to our room.  And when you’ve finished your discussion, please inform us of your decision,” he starts walking and then twists to look back, “Oh and I agree with the ghouls, the more Packs you tell the better, and when you strike at Klaus make sure you go prepared, his reputation was built on top of bodies, bloody mutilated bodies.”  And then Peter strides off down the room.

 

Held in his arms I try not to fume that I’m being the damn damsel and girl again, my head rests on his shoulder and most of the room is empty so at least there aren’t many people to see this. I’m too tired to argue with him anyway. Peter’s still naked and for a few seconds I wonder about that and then realise that he’d of burst out of the clothes he was wearing so I briefly mourn the loss of my t-shirt, I suppose it could be worse.

 

Stalking through the double doors he ascends the stairs like I weigh nothing, and to him I probably don’t weigh much.  The hotel staff are ready for us and we get ushered into a service elevator and the numbers on the dial climb higher, then we get ushered along a corridor to a door.

 

Inside the room has as much personality as the last one we were in.  This one is bigger and it’s a set of rooms so this must be the suite Ryan mentioned.  I’m carried to the bedroom and Peter deposits me in a chair.  He doesn’t even glance at the hovering staff member just asks, “Have our things been brought up?”

 

“Yes Alpha,” the woman bows slightly, “All of your things are in the living room for you.”

 

“Good,” Peter’s still looking at me, “Please see to it that the food the druid mentioned is brought for Stiles and then leave us, only the ghouls, Alphas, or the druid can enter here.”

 

“Yes Alpha,” she gives another little bow and then shortly afterwards I hear a door open and close as she leaves.

 

Running his fingers through his hair Peter just stands there and breathes in and out a few times, “Stiles,” his voice is even and measured but his shoulders are tensing, “We will feed you, clean you, let you sleep, and then we are going to talk about how you keep leaving me.”  He takes a few more deep breaths and then his fakest of fake smiles sits on his face so I know I am seriously screwed, at least he’s letting me sleep first.

 

“Okay,” I make my voice meek while my brain buzzes frantically going nowhere.

 

Chris clears his throat from another room, “Leave that to us, sleep while we plan.”  That could be handy, I just hope they don’t let Derek near the plan, or would my version of Derek be better at planning?  And if my dream Derek was there in what could be Beacon Hills does that mean the other Derek was the real Derek?

 

“Son,” dream dad is nearby, “Just rest, Lydia’s checking the internet but she can’t go too far,” they went far in Wolf Creek.  “You were stronger then, and you’re exhausted now, we can only do things if you give us the power to do it, and you’re nearly tapped out.”

 

That can’t be good though I can feel myself flagging even now and I hope they hurry up with the food, I’m really hungry, I just have to summon the energy to actually eat it.

 

Blinking I realise Peter’s gone and then he’s back with bags that he starts emptying into the wardrobes, he’s not even looking at me.  I should be happy that he’s turned his back on me, that he’s absorbed in doing something that isn’t creepy but it feels weird instead.

 

He doesn’t take long and neither does the food, he cuts up the egg white omelette and the bits of fruit for me and then carries on with the drawers this time while I struggle to eat the little bit of food.

 

It’s not until I have to shower that he’s more or less back to normal, and by normal I mean paying me attention and washing me clean.  He’s careful with how he touches me and my legs are rubbery so he carries me to the bed.  He tucks me in and then slides in after me, his arms wrap around me and he presses against my back.

 

This is better, we’re naked and the covers are soft against my cheek as I settle down into sleep, the bed gives just the way it should and Peter’s breath tickles the back of my neck.  It’s as close to perfect as I can get right now.


	20. Chapter 20

Cold, I’m so cold.

 

Shivering and aching I try to find something warm to hold onto, only my skin hurts and throbs and I can’t find any heat. 

 

“Stiles,” and my name is so loud it hurts.

 

Opening my eyes I slam them shut as I’m nearly blinded by the light.

 

I can’t breathe properly, the air won’t go down, when it is down I choke and cough, my chest explodes in pain with each hacking cough, I don’t want to breathe anymore.

 

“He’s spiking again, get the bath ready,” a voice thunders and then icy cold surrounds me and I can’t even scream from the pain.  “Come on kid, fight, damn it we have got to get his temperature down, again, do it again,” and the cold washes over me taking me with it.

 

Lost in icy darkness I thrash and get nowhere, the sensation of being smothered gets stronger, I hold my breath to keep from drowning and break the surface to see an inky black sky as I tread water in a dark featureless sea.  Large waves are everywhere and they keep crashing over me to push me down into the cold lifeless depths that I have to fight to get free of.

 

Scared and disorientated I whimper, “Mom, mom, mommy, please,” only she left me, she didn’t want to, but she was made to leave me.

 

A wave crests and slams into me. I tumble down and around under the water.  I barely make it to the surface as I get turned around and it’s hard to know which way is up.

 

My chest clenches over my heart and I hold my head above the water just wanting my dad, “Dad, dad please I’m sorry, please dad, daddy, please!”  God I just want him to pluck me out of the water and hold me like he used to do. 

 

No one comes and I’m losing this battle, I can’t keep myself afloat, I’m not strong enough, the water pulls at me and I kick upwards to gasp a few more precious breaths, at this point I’d take anyone saving me, “Scott, bro, Scott!” I call out for him and get nothing, I even try, “Derek, please, Derek.”

 

The next wave is bigger and I’m further down than I’ve ever been, my lungs are burning as my limbs feel like lead and I really don’t think I’m going to make it when I hear a howl, a wolf’s howl, so loud it shakes me and the water.  I break the surface and I try to call out but only a pitiful whisper passes my lips, “Peter,” and I’m sucked down again.

 

I don’t have anything else left to give, this is it, I’m so tired, so drained, cold, numb.  I struggle weakly, something inside refusing to give up as I drift down the faint glimmer of light above me getting further and further away despite my useless efforts.

 

The burning in my lungs, the weight of my body, it’s too much, I can’t hold on, and I’m reaching the end when someone grabs my right arm.  Suddenly I’m yanked upwards and I try to cling to whoever’s holding onto me, I can’t see anything but there’s an arm there and I hang on with my waning strength.

 

This time when I get to the surface the arm keeps me there and the towering waves are pushed away from me.  I’m held in a tiny eye of a storm, far above me the sky is clear and red burning stars stare down at me.

 

I’m safe.

 

Somehow I’m safe here.

 

I’m so tired and I can’t stay awake so I have no choice but to trust the arm to hold me up and not let me slip under the water.

 

Exhausted I press my head against the arm and close my arms, it’s up to him now, I have nothing else to give right now, I can only hope he can keep me alive until I can find a way out of this.

 

“The fever’s breaking…”

 

“Get him on the bed, before his core temperature drops, monitor him, keep him stable, well done kid, keep fighting, you’re winning…”

 

I’m not winning, I’m losing.

 

And I sleep, resting as the arm keeps me safe, anchors me in a sea I can’t survive.  The waves rock me to sleep no longer trying to drown me, not as long as the arm is there.

 

A steady beeping is in one ear but the sea is empty of anyone but me, “His heart is getting stronger, his lungs are clearing, his temperature is steady and coming down, he’s finally responding to the medication…”

 

The raging sea is calming out past the eye, the sky is clearing, and pure bright dots are appearing, right above me the stars remain red, which means I’m safe, because the stars mean the arm is here, and the arm will keep me above the water.

 

I don’t know how long I hold onto the arm but something nudges me from underneath and land rises up taking me with it, it emerges from the water and I’m lofted higher up on a hillside so I can look out over the sea.  Nearby on the hill there’s a small fire, like a beacon flickering in the dark.  It’s not very bright, it’s dull, the fire’s been banked for the night the embers radiating little heat or amber light.

 

Looking behind me I see a higher hill, that’s the hill I have to be on, somehow it feels right.  Getting up on wobbly legs I trudge down the hill I’m on and start climbing the higher hill.  The sides are steep and slippery from the sea water.  The arm catches me every time I slip and keeps me safe until I can get my feet under me and start climbing again.

 

I make it to the top and find a flat little area and the most spectacular views out to sea.  On the edges of my island are a total of eleven of the small hills each with their own fires, most are amber, the rest are yellow, one is blue and one is red.  They ring the bigger hill and in the middle of that hill is a tiny guttering fire of warm pale flames that keeps threatening to go out, it’s surrounded by a chaotic twisting red fire.

 

Staring at them I can’t work out why the flames don’t mix to become just one fire, but the tiny fire seems to be the one holding out on the red fire, then I realise the red fire would normally steal some of the tiny fire’s warmth and light to keep itself contained and burning normally.  Even though the red fire rings the tiny fire, I know the tiny fire is the one keeping the red fire close and under control.

 

Sitting down by the twin fires I rest and watch the way the flames dance until I’m so sleepy I lay down for a few moments and close my eyes.

 

Only to open eyes that are so heavy, the smell of disinfectant and that something hospitals have assaults my nose.  I cough as I stare at the bright ceiling and my chest hurts when I cough.

 

“Stiles?” The voice is rough and scratchy.  It takes effort to turn my head to the right to see Peter hunched on a chair by what must be my bedside.  He looks like a wreck, his hair is messy and greasy, he hasn’t shaved for days and he’s so not rocking the stubble.  His clothes are rumpled and have stains on them.

 

I try to say, “Peter,” but cough and wince instead.

 

“Stiles!” He’s smiling at me and his blood shot eyes are brightening up, “You’re awake, you’re awake,” He stands up and I notice he’s holding onto my right arm, our wrists pressed together, my own hand is around his left arm, the way he was sitting would have twisted his arm and made sitting there uncomfortable.  “NURSE! NURSE! GET THE DOCTOR! NOW!”

 

A woman skids into the room but I don’t pay her a lot of attention, “Mr Stilinski, is the fever back?”  She stops talking so I look at her, “He’s awake,” she spins and goes to the door, “Page the doctor, the patient just woke up.”

 

I woke up?

 

I blink up at Peter who’s patting my hand, “Hello Stiles, can you stay awake until the doctor gets here?” Probably so I nod, “Good that’s good, you have to stay with me Stiles, you can’t leave me,” He lifts my hand up and kisses it.  “I was so worried about you Stiles, you nearly left me for good, it was so close.”

 

I don’t understand and I let him sooth me as I hold onto his arm, as long as he’s holding on I’ll be okay, somehow he’ll keep me from drowning as we wait for the land to come.  He’ll stop me slipping down the hill and help me reach the summit where the twin fires burn.

 

Out of all the people in my life he came when I called, so I give him a tentative smile and get a blinding one in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about that for a heavy handed over the top use of symbolism.


	21. Chapter 21

Curled on my side on the hospital bed I mash the controller buttons on the hand held console and the annoying music bleats out at me to let me know that I’ve lost to Marcie yet again.

 

She’s a remarkably good winner and doesn’t rub my nose in it too much, just gives a victory fist pump and asks if I need a nap.

 

“No,” I roll onto my back and glance over at Peter who’s tapping away on his laptop industrially, he’s set up a little area in my hospital room as his office.  The yawn doesn’t even take me by surprise, I’m so fucking tired all the time.  “Okay, maybe,” I admit reluctantly.  Since I woke up four days ago all I’ve done is struggle to eat and then sleep, if I fight going to sleep I end up with a migraine and have to take meds that make me sleep.

 

I hate this I really do.

 

That’s the cue for Marcie to leave and Peter to tuck me in on the bed, I sigh and let him do his thing, he gets upset and takes it out on other people if I don’t, and I’m too tired to put up with the fallout from all that.

 

Closing my eyes I drift off and ignore how worried Peter looks, because I’m trying not to worry or panic too.  I’m not really getting better, the fever is gone, I’m lucid, my chest is clearing up but I’m still coughing and I coughed up a bit of blood today.  None of the medical staff knows what’s wrong with me and Peter’s at a loss about what to do next.

 

I’m also ignoring how I’ve not seen any of my Dream Pack since before the unexplained fever hit.

 

It’s getting dark when I wake up, which means I’ve slept most of the day away.  The beep from the IV alarm is loud enough to rouse me and my hand is shaky when I reach over to tap the button to silence it.  My food and drink intake is too low so the doctors have me on drips to stave off the start of dehydration and there’s a bit of glucose mixed in to give me energy.  This morning they were talking about tubes in my nose to put special food into my stomach so they don’t have worry about feeding me when I’m actually awake.

 

I really don’t want that.

 

“Peter,” I wiggle on the bed, I need to pee, my legs are too wobbly for me to walk unaided, but I have to keep moving, to keep walking, or my muscles will waste away.

 

He doesn’t say anything, he must be asleep.  Damn it, I hate waking him up, he hasn’t left my side since I got sick, which was straight after my debut on the astral projecting front.  Apparently he went apeshit when I fell ill.  He tore up our hotel suite, then proceeded to do the same in the hospital, thank god the First Clan pretty much own the place and could hush it up.  He was close enough to me that he heard me whisper his name when they had me packed in the equivalent of ice to bring my temperature down, to stop me baking myself to death.  He did his best to hold my hand and keep our wrists together until I woke up.

 

I refuse to examine the fever dreams I had.

 

Patting the bed beside me I find it empty so I try and find him in my minuscule hospital room, he’s not there, and there are no sounds coming from the equally tiny bathroom.

 

That’s very strange, Peter literally hasn’t left this room, other than for bathroom breaks, the doctors have been unable to make him leave, he hovers around them and acts threatening to them if they touch me for too long.

 

Frowning I concentrate on our Mate bond and he really has left the room he’s down a several floors and over on the other side of the building, but he must be coming up again because the angle of the bond is lessening.  A flare of pain explodes in my head and I drop the Mate bond, tensing on the bed I wait for a full-fledged migraine to kick in, but it’s just a dull throbbing ache in my head and it fades as I lay there cursing under my breath.

 

Just what the hell is wrong with me?

 

And then I have a thought, a very nasty thought, what if its cancer?

 

Mom had cancer, and it can run in families. 

 

Pushing it away I roll over and squirm as my full bladder makes itself known, I really need to go and I hope Peter gets here soon, he must have made a supply run to the canteen or something, though the nurses normally get him food because the First Clan are doing their best to make sure he gets as many amenities as he can in a working hospital.

 

Sitting up I swing my legs over the side of the bed and pause to catch my breath.  Slowing inching down I let my bare feet touch the ground and wince at how cold the floor it, and that’s another thing, I get cold really quickly, some times without warning.

 

Wobbling on my legs I use the bedside table and the IV stand my line is attached to for leverage and shuffle slowly towards the door to go find Peter. Or go to the bathroom to pee.  I’ll probably pee first and then find him.  It’s humiliating enough not being able to do things for myself, losing control of my bladder in the middle of a hospital corridor will plumb new depth of humiliation even for me.

 

Proud that I made it to the bathroom door I have absolutely no one to crow about this to, not even Peter.  And then the handle on the door to my room moves and I freeze in place, only to relax when Peter steps into the room to see me standing there.  “Stiles?” He hurries over to me, “What are doing out of bed?”

 

I feel like a naughty little kid that’s been caught doing something wrong, “I needed to pee,” and then I get picked up and carried the last few feet into the bathroom.  He even stands behind me so I can lean into him and just aim down into the bowl.  He doesn’t help me handle my dick, thank god.  But he does help me wash my hands and then he carries me back into the main room and gently puts me on the bed.

 

Since I woke up he’s been so fucking territorial over this room, there are only certain nurses he will let in, the doctors are here on sufferance, the ghouls are banned and Mr Williams stands outside and talks through the open door, and the wolves are barely tolerated at the door.  The one person who’s allowed in here with impunity is Marcie, though she still has to deal with a very emotionally unstable Peter, she’s taken to asking him about how we got engaged and our wedding, how I liked the house he got us, basically reinforcing the ‘Relationship’.  So I’m shocked that I caught a brief glimpse of someone else in my room.

 

Peeking over Peter’s shoulder I can see it’s a man and then he moves and I can’t help but smile at him, “Hey Richard.”

 

“Hello Stiles,” he greets me back, I have no idea why he’s here but I’m glad to see him.  He’s the shaman and keeper of the Wolf Creek Wells area and he’s the guardian of something so evil and wrong that it can never be allowed out into our world.

 

The yawn hits me and I try to shake it off because I’ve not had any visitors, apart from Marcie, and I’ve come to like Richard, he’s fairly down to earth and he likes me as I helped his daughter Jenny.

 

“Hmm,” Richard steps closer to my bed and Peter backs off, which isn’t like Peter, he’s been all over me to put as much of his scent on me as he can.  Holding his hand out over my food Richard frowns and I yelp in pain and jerk my foot back.

 

“Ow, Richard what the hell did you do?” I rub at my foot and Peter is growling slightly but not intervening.

 

“It’s worse than the land told me,” Richard sighs and turns to Peter, “I’m going to have to do something drastic, you won’t like it, the bond between you will dim,” and now Peter is snarling, “I won’t be doing anything to it Peter, but Stiles needs some sort of shielding and quickly, he’s haemorrhaging his life energy,” that doesn’t sound good.

 

“Do it,” Peter’s shoulder slump, “Do what you have to, just save him.”

 

I hold up a hand that feels like lead, it’s so much effort to do anything. “Um, what are you going to do?”

 

“I’m going to wrap you up in a shielding layer of protection,” Richard says and moves closer to me, “You’re injured Stiles, the lands under you sent out a call for help, a beacon if you will.  Peter tells me you accidentally astral projected, that in itself is dangerous but you were also attacked and ‘thrown’ further away.  The leaking life energy is a nasty gift from the blood user you tangled with.”

 

“Will it hurt? Because whatever you did with my foot hurt,” I want him to stop the leaking life energy, if that’s a real thing, though this is Richard so I trust him not to joke about something like that, I just need to know how much it’ll hurt while he does it.

 

“It shouldn’t hurt at all, but then again what I did to your food shouldn’t have hurt you either, I will be even more careful than normal,” is all he says and I nod.

 

I’ve seen Richard shift the wind so it blows from another direction, he’s animated the flora to hold a werewolf in place and once the wolf’s protections were taken away he ripped it apart with the plants.  Wait I also astral projected with him when we were kidnapped by the evil ex-Sherriff, does that mean Richard can teach me to control it?

 

The whole thing is anti-climatic, he runs his hands up the bed and that’s it, except when he’s finished I sigh and roll my shoulders, “Wow, why do I feel lightheaded?” I scratch at the mark on my right wrist, “And that itches now.”

 

Snorting Richard pats my knee, “The pressure of holding your life energy in is no longer on your shoulders, it’s very freeing, and the bond is subdued right now the area around it is very sensitive.”

 

“So what now?” I ask.


	22. Chapter 22

“Now?” Richard asks, “Well now it’s getting dark, you will eat and then sleep,” god I hate sleeping right now, it’s all I ever do.  “In the morning I will check my handiwork and then you and I are going to have a long talk about being a Spark, a very long in depth talk,” he makes it sound ominous.

 

Getting out a cell phone he grimaces, “Excuse me, I have to call my wife and let her and Jenny know that you aren’t dead just yet,” he walks out of my room and then pops his head back around the door, “Oh and I’ll be sleeping in your room in case there are any more emergencies.”

 

“I’ll make sure you have a bed and blankets,” Peter says and then we’re alone and Peter pulls me into a hug, “Stiles, my Stiles, mine, my mate.”

 

Moving my neck so he can snuggle into me I ask, “So when did you call Richard?”  And if the guy can just wrap me up in some kind of shield why couldn’t the others do that?  There was a druid present during my little solo out of body thingy, why didn’t she see it?

 

“I didn’t,” Peter climbs on to the bed and encourages me to cuddle into him, “He called me from outside the hospital.  He’d had a dream about you, the lands were unhappy and called out for him to try and save you,” he sighs, “I told him what I knew and walked him here,” he pulls back and looks me in the eyes, “At this point I’m willing to try anything to save you.”

 

And he really means it, because when the food turns up Peter hands his over to Richard without a word. He terrorises the staff into getting a small bed jammed into the corner of our room.  He even makes the bed up himself and offers Richard the use of my shower.  He’s bending over backwards to do anything Richard might want.

 

Curling up with Peter on my bed I let him spoon me.  I listen to Peter talk to Richard about the new house that Aaron’s dad designed for them.  The contractors are sourcing some of the materials and Richard’s voice has a smile in it as he describes it to Peter.  I don’t get to hear the rest of it because I must have fallen asleep.

 

Blinking awake I stretch out and I don’t immediately fall asleep again.  In fact I’m feeling a bit better.  Twisting in Peter’s arms I have to do some careful manoeuvring to get him onto his back and me sprawled over him.  I have to stop to rest now and again but I manage it and grin to myself.  Under my ear Peter’s heart is beating slowly and regularly, his breathing is deep and even.  He always looks so normal when he’s asleep.

 

Dozing on and off I rest for a few more hours. In a hospital it’s never peaceful, never quiet, there’s always something happening, but for once when morning rolls around, well the sun isn’t quite up yet, but it totally counts as morning, I feel awake, like I really slept last night.

 

I’m also back to needing to pee.

 

Peter’s out cold and I really don’t want to wake him up, he’s still trying to catch up from all the time he was by my sick bed, and worrying over me isn’t helping him either.

 

Slipping from the warm bed I’m pleasantly surprised when I make it to the bathroom in half the time I did yesterday.  Peeing by myself is awesome, though I’m flagging as I head back to bed.  Getting under the nice warm covers and up against Peter’s warmer body makes me smile.  The extra-long IV line lets me have this freedom to move around, the way I ripped out a few of them convinced the doctors to give in regarding it, or else strap my arm to the bed.

 

Less than a minute later I’m bored and spot Peter’s cell phone nearby.

 

Crawling over him I snag the phone and then hit up google, I’m that bored that I tap in random words and then start the jumping game, you read what’s on the page and then pick any of the linked words to jump to another page.

 

I’m reading up on grapefruit when Peter stirs, I’d just gotten comfortable too, he makes an awesome pillow and hot water bottle.  “Stiles?” He asks quietly.

 

“Hey Peter,” I whisper to him, “Did you sleep well?”

 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He counters and wiggles so he can see the screen too, “You haven’t read anything for days…  Are you feeling any better?”

 

“Yep,” I pop the p sound, “I’ve got far more energy already. I’m still worn out but better, much better,” like that moment when you’ve been sick and you can suddenly think again, you have that touch more life to you than you did before.

 

“Good,” Peter nods, “That’s really good Stiles.”

 

“So it’s working already,” Richard interrupts anything else Peter might have said, “Good, we can start work this morning, I thought I might have to wait a day or two for you to recover, I’d forgotten how resilient you are Stiles.”

 

Apparently working on it means Richard waiting for me to have breakfast, and I have a bigger than normal breakfast today.  The doctors fuss over me and are pleased with my progress, while they hide the fact they have no clue on why I’m suddenly getting better from a mystery illness and chalk it up to complications from the fever.  Then Richard kicks everyone out, including Peter, and he barely puts up a fight, he slinks out of the door and I’m stunned that he’s trusting Richard with me.

 

“Good,” Richard’s gotten me to get comfortable on the bed and he moves a chair so he can face me, “Now we will begin.  Stiles I need to learn what magically training you’ve had.”

 

“I haven’t,” I tell him honestly, “Geez only a few years ago I didn’t even know werewolves existed,” he makes a pained expression, “Was I supposed to?  I never found any solid evidence on the internet about magic and I googled the shit out most supernatural things just in case.”  Did I miss something?

 

“I doubt you would have found anything on the internet,” He shakes his head, “We tend to keep our secrets close, there’s no need to advertise any weaknesses me might have to our enemies,” he leans forward, “So you’ve had no training at all?  Nothing apart from the few meditations I taught you?”

 

“No,” and he’s getting upset.  I have no idea why, it’s not like teachers of the supernatural advertise, or do they?  Were they there in front of me the whole time and I missed them?

 

“And your imaginary friends?  Did you have a teacher for them?” He’s looking around the room like he’s searching for them.

 

“No,” I’m sick of saying that too, “They just turned up,” that makes him jerk his head around to stare at me again.

 

“When,” he stresses the word, “Did they start turning up?”

 

I’m not sure why that’s so important, he’s never been concerned about it before, and I don’t want to talk about when Scott and dad turned up but Richard’s acting like it’s important.  “Um,” I wrap my arms around me and look towards the hospital’s room for Peter, which is stupid, he’s not here right now, Richard’s made him go sit in the canteen.

 

“Stiles, the triggering point for most of them being made is something traumatic, the maker needs them to exist, so they do,” and he’s giving me an out.  “Did you have them in Beacon Hills?” I shake my head.  “The FBI turned up in Wolf Creed because of a particular person,” I flinch, “Did you make them after your,” he pauses, “Relationship, for want of a better word, started with the person the FBI were after?” I nod.

 

He sighs, “I see,” he rubs his face, “This complicates matters slightly, I honestly thought you’d had training, some type of grounding to make the things you’ve been doing safe.  Most Sparks are instinctive, they can mimic any magic, any supernatural signature, but they’ll never have the power a true user or being would have.  It’s why you can mimic the werewolf signature to the point that Peter was able to Mate bond you, why the land of Wolf Creek Wells loves you, how you can see the ghouls for what they are.”

 

“But?”  There’s totally a but in his voice.

 

“All power comes with a cost, you are not the exception,” his shoulders slump, “Remember how you got sick after seeing the future?”

 

I nod because I had that mini illness moment right after the dream, and earlier when I’d dreamed about my mom I did the same thing.  We’d guessed it to be something to do with my food from the high school at the time, or Peter did anyway.

 

“That is the price you’ll pay for over extending yourself,” Richard says, “Little things are fine, but the big things will drain you and your body will react to the abuse, and it will also mimic you being sick to the point that your immune system could weaken allowing you to get genuinely sick.”

 

“That’s not fair,” I huff out, “I’ve never done on purpose.”

 

“Fair or not, that is your price, deal with it,” he’s umimpressed with my whining, “And I will be your teacher from now on, I will teach you the basics so that you’ll have some control over your abilities, and not just simple mediations we will take this back to the most basic levels and build from there.”


	23. Chapter 23

Richard’s taking this teaching thing very seriously, he’s called Peter back and told me our talk is postponed, for now.  My husband is pressed snugly against my side as Richard starts to talk us through some simple shielding.

 

“Stiles is too weak and drained to do this on his own at the moment, plus he’s healing from the damage done to him by the blood user that attacked him,” Richard says and then coaxes us through a simple visualisation, “It’s like a bubble, see through, fragile, but always there. Only another shaman would have a chance to notice this shield. This is your first defence and any attackers will not see it, they won’t feel it pop, but you will and later we will work on further defences that will automatically spring into being.  It will shield you from the everyday unwanted things, or it can hold your life force inside while you heal.  It won’t drain your reserves, it won’t pull anything from you, this is why it is the first defence, it’s the easiest, it costs next to nothing just your time and patience to master it, and soon it will be more instinctive than breathing to you, you will hold this awake, asleep, or even unconscious.”

 

I’m glad I’ve been working on my meditation so much, the image of the bubble slips through my fingers so many times but I’m getting the hang of it, only Richard wants my bubble and Peter’s bubble to merge as much as possible. He wants Peter to shield me for the time being, to use his mental muscles to protect me as I heal myself.

 

“Good, that’s good, I can just sense the shields you’re both creating, the barest hints of something,” He encourages us and when I yawn he smiles at us, “The progress you’re making is astonishing, keep this up and I can go home soon, the simple things you’re learning will keep you going until you can come back to Wolf Creek Wells, we’ll continue there.  Now I need to phone my wife to let her know I’ll be staying with you for a few weeks.  Stuart doesn’t need to go back to college until then,” he breezes out of the room phone already in his hand.

 

Groaning I rest my head on Peter’s shoulder, “Simple he says, I’m tired again.”

 

A kiss is pressed to my forehead, “You’ve been awake longer today than you have been since you got sick, you’re doing hard mental work, of course you’re tired,” he’s smiling, “My clever raven child, you’re stronger than you realise.”

 

“Maybe,” I turn to pull him into hug, “God I do not want to have to stay in a hospital for a few weeks, or go back to that hotel room,” mostly because Peter trashed it, “I think you’ve spoilt me, that room was so generic, it had no character at all.”

 

He snorts, “It was dire wasn’t it?  I’ll see what I can do about the accommodation darling.  In the meantime, would you like me to massage your feet for you?”

 

Oh god, a Peter foot massage from heaven, “Really?  I get a foot massage out of this?”

 

“If you’d like?” He leaves it up to me.

 

“Holy mother of god, yes, yes, yes, and yes,” I flop back onto the bed as Peter laughs at me and then his fingers start to rub my feet and I groan in ecstasy, “Oh god, Peter you have magic fingers man, magic fingers, don’t ever stop.”

 

Peter’s massage does the trick and I have a little nap for an hour, just an hour and I already feel more alive, like it really did recharge my batteries for me.  To the point that I fidget and get bored.  Richard ignores my ADHD fuelled outbursts and Peter hands me a fully charged iPad, it’s not my one but it’s better than nothing.

 

The physio woman has been putting her head around the door since I woke up but this is the first day I’ve felt up to doing anything, she’s careful not to ask me to do too much, her exercises kind of remind me of Richard’s earlier one, simple, basic, something I can do whenever I have a moment, but all designed to stop my muscles withering, to start building me back up.

 

All in all when Marcie comes to visit that evening I’m in an awesome mood, Peter’s smiling and humming as he works on his laptop and Richard is reading a romance novel of all things.

 

She bounces in and sees me sitting up, “Alpha Stiles!” She squeals and runs straight for the bed, “Alpha Stiles you’re sitting up,” she leaps onto the bed and sniffs me, “You even smell better,” she throws her arms around me though she doesn’t use her full strength.

 

“Hey Marcie,” I hug her back, “We got a surprise visitor, he’s helping me.”

 

She turns to look at Richard and growls at him, “You smell of earth and rain.”

 

Clearly she’s caught him off guard but he nods, “I’m a shaman, I live in the same land as Peter and Stiles, the land called to me and I came to help.  You have a very sensitive nose for a little Beta wolf.”

 

“I’ve never met a Shaman before,” she gives him a huge smile, “And you’re helping Alpha Stiles,” she turns that beaming smile on me, “So does that mean you’re up to me kicking your virtual butt?”

 

“Language Marcie,” Peter says mildly, “And now he’s stronger you may find Stiles is quite capable of kicking your butt in the virtual world.”

 

“Bring it,” she challenges me and we start battling.  She does beat me, but only just, it’s a very close thing, I hold her off for a long time and nearly beat her a few times.

 

“So close,” I groan as the damn music tinkles at me again.

 

“Close but not close enough,” she taunts me and I retaliate by tickling her, she squeals and the tickle fight starts up.  We collapse on the bed laughing too hard to carry on.  She mock growls at me and then moves in for a cuddle.

 

God she’s so tiny compared to me, I know she’s a werewolf so she’s actually tougher and stronger than me but she really sets off my protective urges.  From the corners of my eyes I can see Richard who looks like he finds us cute and adorable, I wonder if what I’m feeling is some of what he feels towards his children.  Peter’s is both happy and glaring at the same time.  To head him off I hold a hand out to him, he’s across the room before I can blink and holding my hand, he sits on the bed and his other hand rests on my hip, but that’s as far as his possessive jealousy goes.

 

“Alpha Peter,” Marcie uses that beaming smile on him, “Tell me how you and Stiles found your rings,” and just like that she reinforces that I’m Peter’s and we’re in a ‘Relationship’.

 

Behind her Richard very briefly frowns and then he’s back to reading as Peter describes my epic hunt for the rings, how I stalked my prey and then got him so we could bring it down together.  His eyes soften as they look at me and he’s reassured enough to go back to his laptop and tap on the keyboard.

 

Marcie doesn’t stay for much longer after that but she promises to bring us some fruit when she comes tomorrow, “My friend had to go into hospital once and they fed her horrible food and we had to bring fruit in for her,” she chatters on happily and defies science with how little she stops to breathe.  “Now I can bring you fruit Alpha Stiles and Alpha Peter, because you’ll eat it and it will help make you better, did you know that fruit has special stuff in it that helps your body get better?” She doesn’t wait for my answer, “It really does and our teacher at school said that we need to eat up our vegetables because they’re good for us,” she wrinkles her nose, “But I really don’t like broccoli and it looks silly.”

 

Her mom comes to pick her up and Peter guards the door so she can’t get in but she does see me sitting up and she’s clearly happy I’m starting to recover, “Oh Alpha Stiles, we’ve been so worried.”

 

“He still has a way to go,” Peter’s faking being nice and all and starts to close the door in her face, “Feel free to drop Marcie off whenever you like,” he’s got his back to the room and Richard’s frowning again, the expression is gone when Peter turns back around.

 

Dinner is for three so Peter doesn’t have to give up his food again, I eat everything and groan at how full my stomach is.  I’m also not tired so Peter sets up his laptop on the bed and we curl up to watch TV.

 

I introduce him to the Big Bang Theory and I laugh at their nerdy antics, the fact that I can get most of the references merely adds to how awesome I am.


	24. Chapter 24

Sitting cross-legged on the hospital bed I stare at Richard who’s sitting at the foot of the bed, Peter’s left for a few hours to go and hunt for a place for us to live from tomorrow onwards, as in Richard’s living with us.

 

I can’t believe Peter actually suggested it but he’s been in such a good mood for the last three days since Richard did his thing, something about me getting better is stabilizing Peter and if I didn’t know he was a werewolf I’d say he’s high on sugar right now.

 

Apparently we can’t go back to Wolf Creek just yet, the Packs are mid battle with Klaus and his blood user lover, and their lands are too close to ours.  I’ve not asked for many details but the Packs, combined with ghouls and some magic users, are slaughtering any of Klaus’ werewolves that they find, and it turns out that Klaus had lots and lots of little werewolves, all broken werewolves, so the mass killing of people isn’t going unnoticed, the ghouls have their work cut out for them hushing it up and hiding the reason behind fabricated tales they’re spinning out of thin air.

 

I still think all lawyers are the grandkids of fairies, they have to be.

 

I’ve gotten to the point that I can hold my own shield for most of the day and Richard is showing me how to patch up my spirit wounds, he thinks I’ve stopped bleeding but he wants to be sure so I’m imagining scabs forming over a bleeding wound and then I have to imagine it getting better and the scab falling off with no scar underneath.

 

Richard is busy calling the sleeping power of the land under us to lend me the strength to do this because I don’t have much power as a Spark.  The land is sluggish but it has sent up a tendril of green brown power, power that kind of tickles.  In my head the wounds are scabbing over one by one and healing, slowly, but they are healing.

 

“Good, that’s good Stiles,” he continues to encourage me, “I can feel the healing happening, it will be slow but sure, each time you do this you will get stronger and your injuries will fade further.

 

“Remember the land is always slow, always sluggish, it is the nature of the land.  The water is more treacherous but flows faster and has deep currents you can get dragged down into, it has great power but its fickle and does as it chooses.  The air can be still or whip past howling, it is mischievous. Each makes up the whole of the world we live in, and nothing stats the same, things have changed since my father and his father and his father.  Wisdom that once worked fails now, the land is not the same land it was centuries ago, it has evolved and it will do so for years to come, learn to grow with it, change with it, love it, and it will love you too.”

 

Technically this is all mumbo jumbo, but I can feel the shield when Peter wraps it around us, he itches his Mate mark when I do the same back.  I’m stronger in just a few days than before Richard came.

 

Magic doesn’t appear to be flashy and bright like they show it on TV and Films, it’s more mundane, more simple and yet harder.  I’ve set souls free and see my dead mom, I’ve seen the future and ridden the winds alongside Richard, because apparently Shamans don’t astral projecting they ride the winds, totally different and safer, but more limiting.

 

There are so many things Richard can do that I never will, like move plants, I can ask the land, the air, and the water to do things, and if they feel like it they’ll do it.

 

I’ve also noticed that Richard doesn’t follow anything I’ve ever heard about Native American Indians.  Okay so they have different tribes and one tribe is the same as another if you’re willing to accept that eagles, pelicans, condors, quails, and owls are all the same.  Yes they’re all birds, but they’re all different types of birds.  Damn you Hollywood, you’ve not prepared me for this at all.

 

With Richard’s help I’ll end up with some control over my Spark, or at least have some defences to protect myself when the unexpected happens to me.  He still wants to talk to me about my dream Pack but he’s happy to wait until I’m stronger.

 

And speaking of my dream Pack, they’ve just started to reappear this morning, I carefully ignored Scott when he materialized and stood there patting himself like he was checking he was all there, he gave me a giant smile and thumbs, “Don’t push it Stiles, you can bring us back online later, get better first bro.”  Not wanting to freak Peter out and ruin his awesome mood I failed to mention it though Richard looked at the spot Scott was in before my bro vanished again.  Other than a raised eyebrow Richard didn’t say anything either.

 

It’s not long until my ADHD is making it hard for me to concentrate on healing so I jump when Boyd’s voice says, “Like we practiced Stiles, just like we practiced,” and he starts to help me stay on track.

 

After two hours of healing Richard makes me stop and smiles at me, “Very good Stiles, can I test your spirit?” That was what he was doing when he first walked in, the pain I felt was due to the wounds and the bruising.  This time I only wince and he looks so pleased that I’m soon beaming, “Yes, that is excellent progress Stiles, we’ll do it in stages every day and that won’t overload your abilities or make you sick.”

 

This also means I’m free to do my physio exercises and the team here are happy with my progress too, I’ll have follow up exercises to do but they don’t think it will take me long to get back to how I was before I fell sick.

 

The icing on the cake for today is Peter breezing in after lunch, he’s smug and has some brochures, “I found it, eventually, there are some terrible hotel suites out there,” he decided that we were either going into a hotel suite or we’d have to rent an apartment, that way he gets the wolves of the city to run around after us and act like a line of security but still shut me off from most social contact.

 

Sorry, I mean, make sure he can nurse me back to full health with as few distractions for us as possible.

 

Obediently I look at the brochure he brought, it’s a suite in a hotel not too far from Central Park, it has a gym, swimming pool and spa area, all perfect for building me up where I’ve lost flesh and muscle due to my illness.  And our suite is on two levels with a giant window illuminating the large spacious living room, the living room that leads up to the master bedroom area, leaving Richard downstairs with his own mini bedroom and shower area.  We even have a balcony, though it’s been snowing again so I doubt we’ll be using it.

 

“Wow, it looks amazing Peter, and it says it has a fully functional kitchen so that guests can cook for themselves if they want to,” I point out and he’s been hinting he wants to cook for me again.  “Honey you know if you want I can spell you on the cooking.”

 

“Stiles,” He perches on the bed beside me and gives me all his attention, “You know I enjoy cooking for you.”

 

“I know, but you’ve done so much for me and you stayed with me the whole time I was sick and recovering, I don’t want you to neglect yourself.”

 

His eyes soften and I’ve taken the right route because he smiles, “In that case I’ll make sure we go out to eat occasionally, or we can get take out, or anything else we feel like.” I reward him by kissing his nose.

 

“Okay Peter,” and just like that he believes he’s gotten his own way while I know I’ve gotten mine.  Now I’m stronger and have more energy I can start fighting back to get some freedoms he’s trying to cut me off from.

 

Even on our honeymoon he didn’t keep me cooped up, he let me out and we spent time exploring, shopping, seeing the sights, we could talk to people and I could socialise without upsetting him.  Richard is awesome, as is Marcie, but I need to stop him from isolating me completely.

 

Plus I need access to the internet somehow, I have to find out if what I saw in Beacon Hills was real or not.

 

Pleased that I like the apartment, he keeps talking and he’s spoken to my school, they understand I’ve been ill and I’ll be getting email packages of work, as long as I keep up with the basics I can make it up when I get back.  He’s gotten me a replacement laptop and has downloaded my favourite MMO game for me, “That way you can play as well as work on Richard’s lessons, your schoolwork, your gym and swimming sessions.  You’ll deserve some time to relax and unwind.”

 

“Thank you,” and I do mean it, he does try to give what I need, he makes the world he’s building for us as me friendly as he can.


	25. Chapter 25

Once the last of our bags has been put in the main hallway of the hotel suite Peter shoos out the hotel staff. He gets a time from them for the grocery delivery and then locks the door behind them.

 

He even volunteers to carry the few things Richard has to the man’s bedroom but Richard tells him he can handle it so Peter lets me explore while he carries our things upstairs.

 

The small hallway leads to a big open plan area, to my immediate left is the kitchen and it is pretty spectacular.  Black granite or stone worktops are contrasted against the pale wood of the built in kitchen, the small island is all that fences it off from the rest of the room, and the stainless steel or chrome appliances gleam brightly.  I know Peter is going to enjoy puttering around in there.

 

I’m standing on more pale wood and the entire floor is the same, the running mats or carpets are plush and deep in greys and greens.  The walls are green with grey boarders, the furniture blending in perfectly in the living room and dining room.  The long dining room table could comfortably sit ten and it’s positioned to make the most of the views from the giant window along one side.  That must be the window the write up boasted about.

 

Also near the window is the living room, with comfy looking couches and some nice arm chairs.  A big plasma TV dominates one wall and I can see Peter insisting on curling up and cuddling on the couch, I hope it’s at least as comfy as our one.

 

I don’t go outside but I can see when the snow is gone and the sun is out how it would be nice to sit out there, I bet you could eat out there every night and just enjoy the company and meals.

 

The only other feature is the stairs leading upwards, I avoid them and go to where Richard’s room is.  I pass the downstairs bathroom with its giant shower, bath tub and toilet, that must be for guests to use as well as the person occupying the bottom bedroom.  I poke my head around Richard’s door to spy on his room.  It’s following the green and grey theme with nice bright wooden floors and the bedroom stuff is the same.

 

Giving me a nod he flicks his eyes up and his expression turns sympathetic.  I nod back and wonder what that was about as I trudge upstairs to find Peter.

 

Just up the stairs and over the space of the living room is a giant office area, I should imagine that Peter will spend a lot of time here and I’m guessing he’ll make me do homework here too.

 

A small hallway leads to our bedroom and it’s much bigger than Richard’s.  Unlike Richard’s we don’t have wardrobes and other furniture, and because I can hear Peter bustling around I search for him and find him in a giant walk in wardrobe that might even hold all of the extra clothes he bought on one of his many shopping trips .  We have the same colour scheme though out and our bed is much bigger, not that I’ll get any space because Peter will plaster himself to me, something I do appreciate now it’s colder, he’s really warm like a heater wrapped around me.

 

The wardrobe leads to the bathroom and we have a giant walk in shower, a giant tub I can soak for hours in, the usual sink and toilet and a vanity area I’m sure that Peter will colonise as soon as he can.

 

Walking out I sit on the bed and bounce on it a bit, it’s much better than the damn hospital bed so I flop back onto it.

 

“Are you tired Stiles?” Peter asks as he messes around with one of the drawers in the wardrobe.

 

“Nope,” I’m really not, and I stare at the ceiling, they put that plaster stuff up with patterns all swirled in it and I let my eyes follow the sweeping lines.

 

“I shouldn’t be long and then we can go and look at the facilities here,” Peter offers, “The groceries will be here soon too and I’ll cook us dinner, would you like some chicken tonight darling?”

 

“Chicken sounds good,” I admit and fidget on the bed.

 

“I’ve been looking at getting some DVD sets for us too,” Peter’s in a chatty mood, “You and Marianne talked about Buffy right?”

 

“Yeah,” I grin at that, “I still can’t believe she has all of the boxed sets and hasn’t heard of Firefly, man that is a classic cult series.”

 

“Oh?” Briefly glancing out at me Peter lifts one of his eyebrows so I ramble on about the whole space cowboy thing.  I’m getting to the point where I’m ready to sing the song for Jayne when Peter’s finished and we can escape out of the suite to explore the hotel.

 

We ask Richard if he wants to go but he’s going to be Skyping his family and we leave him to it.

 

The hotel is nice and Peter points out all the bits that look nice but scream money, he’s pleased with its understated elegance and we go down to reception to peruse the menu of the restaurant here.  It’s Italian but also does the breakfasts for the guests here too.  I hope Peter follows through and lets us come down here to eat occasionally, it has good views of the sidewalk outside and it offers coffee to its guests.

 

“Hey you realise we could come down here and work right?” I point out to him, there are some people already in there doing just that, “You could drink coffee and answer emails while I could write essays and stuff,” I’m careful to put my hand in his, “And just think, when I go to college, we could find a nice little coffee shop, we could sit there and I could study, sometimes with classmates and you could work, it’ll be domestic,” I try and sell it to him and then I leave it, I have a few years to work on him to get him to agree to it.

 

“Maybe,” is all he offers and I push the idea away so I can concentrate on the fitness area and all the machines. They also do yoga and Pilates classes here, those are something that I’m doing in Wolf Creek, it’s supposed to help me with my ADHD, but I find the dance classes the most fun, I get to bounce around and no one yells at me.

 

There aren’t any dance classes here and Peter offers to find me some if we stay much longer and I’m stronger.

 

Then he takes me out to see the pool, it’s a saltwater one and while it isn’t that long it has jets you can swim against.  There are also two hot tubs nearby and some big ass fish tanks to stare at too, there are a few Nemos in there and Peter smiles indulgently as I get excited over that.

 

In the spa Peter looks at the treatments and then turns his nose up, I’m startled until I realise most of them would mean one of the staff here would get their hands on me, instead I pat his hand and tell him I’m fine with him giving me foot massages, and I point out that it’s our honeymoon still so I’m going to milk him for massages.  The woman he’s just insulted by rejecting her services points out that she can supply him with oils if he wants to do that for me and he smells all of them before picking one and thanking her.

 

Not really wanting to go back to our suite, but I’m starting to flag, I let him escort me to our bedroom and lay down for a nap.  He’s been researching some more ADHD things and has downloaded some music for me, it’s this new age stuff and I roll my eyes as it shuffles through them only playing a minute or two for each of them.

 

Listening to it does help and the sheer randomness of it stops me getting too bored as I rest and doze off.  I wake up to harps playing gently in the background and then snigger when I make out the tune to Bohemian Rhapsody.  Looks like Peter found the album of the people playing the night we got engaged.

 

Tumbling off the bed I turn off the laptop and then amble down to find Peter in the kitchen cooking and Richard sitting at the island sipping a beverage. Climbing onto a kitchen stool next to Richard I sniff the air appreciatively, I’ve missed Peter’s cooking.

 

We don’t do a huge amount, just talk, then eat and I was right Peter does make me snuggle on the couch, it’s not quite as good as our one but it’ll do for now.  Richard sprawls out on one of the armchairs and we watch a move or two.

 

Most of the time it’s me holding the shield now, but when I falter I feel Peter take up the slack, it really is becoming automatic now and I rest my head on Peter’s shoulder.


	26. Chapter 26

In just a few short days we’ve already settled into a routine, Peter takes me down to the gym to do yoga shortly after waking up, we meet Richard in the little restaurant for breakfast, go back to the suite where I do schoolwork, and Peter and Richard do paid work.  Richard builds websites, not the crappy one that Peter had built, but proper ones, Peter’s leaned over his shoulder a few times and we might be getting the girl who’s building our ones to come for lessons.  Peter spends his work time terrorising Vincent, his long suffering office manager in Wells, though I think the guy might end up being his PA with the way Peter uses him.

 

We take a break for lunch, a lunch that Peter makes for us, then get stuck in again.  When Peter goes to make dinner, Richard walks me through the magic lessons we’ve done already to make sure I’m doing it right and he’s started to teach me a stronger shielding thing, it will deflect magic attacks, they’ll slide around me, apparently stopping magic is hard, so you try to shift it away instead.

 

We stop for dinner and I’m allowed to mess around on the internet, Richard Skypes his family and Peter either putters around, reads, or sits and stares at me in his usual over the top creepy way.

 

Then I’m escorted back down to the gym for a short work out and walk, or even another short swim.  Peter then makes me go to bed and wraps himself around me.

 

I have to admit I’m stronger, and with Peter monitoring my food and making sure I’m exercising but not over doing it, I can’t see where I’m putting on weight or muscle but I feel like I am.  I feel alive.  I feel like me again.  Well as much like me as I get to be these days.

 

Crawling into bed with Peter I obediently roll over and snuggle into Peter as he spoons me.  And when I wake up I lay there and stew.  So far Peter is acting like he’s being generous by letting me eat in the restaurant every morning. Oh and I do yoga too, but if Peter could somehow stick himself to me like a leech while we are there he’d total do it.

 

Richard hasn’t had that big talk with us yet, and more of my dream Pack have turned up, they seem fine and are ‘sleeping’ so only a few are active at any one time so they don’t drain me.

 

Scratching at my Mating Mark I smirk when Peter suddenly twitches and bucks into me, and I’m doing my best to ignore what I can remember of my fever dreams, I might have clung to Peter but I’m not blind to what he is either.

 

Last night as I was shooed up to bed I got to see it start snowing again.  Not the little smattering that Beacon Hills is luck to get away with, not these were the big fat flakes of frozen water that are shown on TV but I’ve never seen before.

 

And just like that I have to see them, I have to see what the world looks like now it’s snowed.  Considering we have a giant window you can’t see a lot due to the angle, but if I slip out onto the balcony, I can mess around in the snow and get to see what New York looks like in the snow.

 

“Clothes bro,” Scott calls out from the hallway, “It’s way colder here than home.”

 

Yeah and I’ve just been ill I don’t want to catch a chill.

 

“Peter has a thick coat,” Lydia mentions almost casually, “And for once those annoying layers you insist on would come in handy.  Make sure you put on a few socks too and the most waterproof footwear you own, and yes I’m aware none of it will match,” I can easily imagine the horrified expression on her face right now.

 

Slipping out of Peter’s embrace is harder than it looks, I jam on the clothes that come easiest to hand and I end up with a mixture of mine and Peter’s, then I steal out of the bedroom and sneak downstairs.

 

I don’t bother doing up the laces of the shoes and shove Peter’s coat on.  Zipping it up, I hurry to the door, it won’t take Peter long to notice I’m missing, I have a very small window of opportunity, I want to make the most of it.

 

Wow Scott wasn’t kidding its fucking freezing out here.  The cold almost burns when I breathe in.  Under my feet the snow crunches, how the hell does it make that kind of sound?  Carefully I creep closer to the edge of the big balcony, I have no intention of letting my clutziness or the ice send me over the railings to my death.

 

It works though, I get to see first-hand those images I’ve seen on TV of cars like mounded lumps of snow.  People scurry about on the sidewalks and it almost comes up to their knees.  Buildings are either dusted or blanketed thickly, there are icicles in places.  It’s like stepping into a Christmas card, this strange hush is over everything and I stand there gazing about in wonder.

 

“Peter!” Derek flickers in and then out, I was right it really didn’t take him long to notice.

 

I don’t bother going in, my hands are jammed into Peter’s coat, and I crane my neck to drink in as much as I possibly can before he locks me back in my tower.

 

The snick of the door opening and the crunch of snow lets me know he’s there, “Morning Peter,” I say cheerfully, “It snowed, it really snowed, look how thick it is!”

 

“Stiles,” he’s voice is perfectly even so I know he’s pissed, “Why are you outside?”

 

“I wanted to see the snow,” I wave my arms to try and encompass the snowy wonderland laid out in front of us.  “Isn’t it amazing?”

 

“You left our bed Stiles, you left our suite,” and he’s really starting to get worked up.

 

“Yes I left the bed Peter, I was awake. No I didn’t leave the suite, the balcony is part of the suite, so I am still ‘inside’ our territory.  So what are we doing today Peter?” I ask him and keep staring at the street, there’s a car slowly moving along and contrary to the movies it doesn’t have a death slide, flip over, and explode a in fiery ball of heat and over the top special effects.

 

“We are going to talk,” Peter’s growling behind me.

 

“About what?” I can guess what the talk is about but I’m not going to make this easy for him.  “You’re not going to have to go to Florida are you?  Because you are not leaving me while you do that, I’m totally going with you.”  To stay distracted and to screw up my scent signals I train my eyes on anything that will keep me calm.  “I don’t care that the whole thing is going to hell in a hand basket Peter, there are hunters down there, you are NOT going anywhere near them, it doesn’t matter how good you are, they only need to get lucky once, and don’t bullshit me that you’re too good a fighter or something, luck plays it’s part in a battle.”

 

Silence.

 

Hopefully I’ve confused him.

 

To my amusement there are two guys are trying to ride bicycles.  It’s not working well for them, they wobble and fall off, a lot, they spend more time in the snow than they do on their bikes, and the pedestrians that are out and about give them wide berths as they move ahead smoothly.  Personally I’d give up with the bike and walk at this point if I were them but they persevere.

 

More crunching coming closer has me tensing for a second but I relax and do my best to pretend everything is okay.  “Stiles,” Is breathed against the back of my neck and then arms slip around me as he presses into me.  “I am not leaving you. I will never leave you Stiles.  You are everything to me.”

 

Warm lips leave kisses in the nape of my neck and we stand there together, I point out the two guys to Peter who snorts and shakes his head, “Idiots, walking is far easier, you have to adapt to the environment.”

 

“Yeah, don’t think anyone’s told them that,” I lean back into Peter and let him hold me.  I glance back at him and then blink because I can see bare shoulders, looking down I can see bare arms.  “Holy mother god, Peter are you naked?”

 

He shrugs, “You weren’t in our bed, I had to find you,” he sounds a bit defensive and grumpy.

 

“In,” I wiggle out of his arms and evade him trying to drag me back into his embrace, “In Peter, and we are taking a bath, damn it, you are not getting sick too, it’s bad enough I’m not up to speed yet, you are not coming down with anything.”

 

Pushing at his bare shoulder I indicate he has to go and he slinks into the living room and watches as I close and lock the door, “Dude at least I had the brains to put warm clothes and stuff on,” I know I’m nagging him and I wait for him to snark back but he takes it and I fuss a bit to get him up the stairs and into our bathroom.


	27. Chapter 27

If a human had done what Peter has just done I’m sure there are steps we’d have to take to start increasing their core temperature, but Peter is a werewolf so I make him get in the shower and turn it up so it’s much hotter than we normal have it and then run a warm to hot bath.

 

I’ve already pushed a lot of his buttons so I’ll have to sit in the bath with him, I can’t make it overly hot as I’ll get heat stroke, I need it comfortable for me and I’ll keep him in the bath for longer, which means I’ll need something to do or I’ll crawl up the walls out of sheer boredom.

 

Grabbing the laptop I nestle it so we’ll see it from the giant bath tub and queue a film to watch, Monsters Inc should be good for a laugh and then I tell him I’m nipping down to the kitchen and for him not to move out of the shower unless the bath threatens to overflow.

 

Not waiting to hear his reply I flit down the stairs and then start putting some food together, well I make sandwiches, make him a big mug of fruity tea and grab some water bottles, on impulse I snag fruit too and scurry back up to see him waiting in the shower.

 

The bath is taking a while to fill but then it’s huge so I’m not surprised, when it does fill up I hurry Peter out of the shower and straight into the bath.  Only then do I strip down and tap the laptop to play.  Slipping into the water I hold out a plate of food and his tea and I line the water bottles up along the side.

 

“Right if we stay in here for the length of the film you should be okay,” I glare at him, “No more dumb stunts Peter,” I tell him and then zone out to watch the film.

 

Well I watch the film he watches me and eats the food I made him, and sips the tea I got him.  He stretches out in the bath and his body touches mine, I’m that used to him invading my personal space that I only shift to make it more comfortable for him and keep my eyes on the laptop.

 

When the credits roll I turn back to him, the water is still really warm but it’s starting to cool down.  His shoulders are under the water, the steam is curling around him and his hair has dried strangely.  He looks relaxed and he even blinks a bit sleepily at me.  The food and the heat are putting him to sleep.

 

A plan pokes me in the head and I don’t bother to think it over, it’s best to just forge ahead with him anyway.

 

“Right you are going back to bed Peter,” I tell him as firmly as I can, “You will stay curled up nice and warm today and I’ll call Vincent to let him know you are having a sick day,” he opens his mouth so I hold a hand up, “No Peter.  You spent days by my side and neglected yourself, then you went out in the freezing hell that New York is right now and you are going to take some time to take care of yourself.  So you are going to spend the damn day in bed.”

 

He narrows his eyes at me and doesn’t argue.

 

In fact he’s downright meek as I put him to bed and tuck him in.  I pull on some clothes and take the plates and empty bottles downstairs, where I run into Richard.

 

“Morning,” he’s looking at me strangely and peers up towards the stairs, “Is Peter going to be long?”

 

“Yeah about that,” I put the plates in the sink, “Peter and I won’t be coming down to breakfast with you,” Richard pulls a confused face, “I decided to go out and check out the snowy landscape, with nice warm clothes on,” I say the last bit loudly, “While a certain Alpha werewolf decided to come out and cuddle me while he was naked, so he will be spending the day in bed and making sure he doesn’t catch a chill.”

 

Blinking at me rapidly Richard nods, “In that case I’ll go and have breakfast by myself, is there anything I can you two while I’m gone?”

 

“Nope, we’re good, thanks for the offer,” and I wash up as Richard leaves.  Locking the door behind him, he has a key card to the door, I simply nip up the stairs and grab the laptop out of the bathroom.  Peter’s still in bed and I feel his eyes follow me the whole time.

 

In the office I Skype Vincent and he’s surprised about Peter and shocked that a werewolf can even get sick but he promises to hold down the fort until Peter can call him tomorrow.  He also promises to phone if anything really bad happens to keep Peter in the loop.

 

Since I have exiled Peter to the bedroom I could spend the rest of the day away from him, but I’d have an unhappy Peter on my hands.  Instead I take my school stuff into the bedroom and sprawl on my side of the bed.  This brings back memories of home so I squash them and turn my attention to algebra, and from the other room Lydia shouts at me now and again as she tutors me.  I don’t need a lot of help but the occasional nudge in the right direction is helpful.

 

Richard comes back from breakfast and starts working in the office, so it’s quiet in the suite, the point that I hear when Peter’s breathing changes and I blink at him in amusement because he’s fallen asleep with his mouth slightly open.  Putting my head back down I read up on history and Mrs Goathead’s fabulous notes, the woman has a very wicked sense of humour and I chuckle to myself a few times.

 

Unable to hold completely still I wiggle around on the bed, and I don’t disturb Peter, the guy isn’t even twitching.  He must have really exhausted himself because of me.  And yes that gives me warm fuzzy feelings, but this is Peter we’re talking about.  If I’m honest, and I hate being completely honest with myself, I’m now in two minds about him, I think that’s what my fever dream was about, yes he’ll always be there, he’ll never leave me, but he’s also insane and he’ll be draining to live with and spend the rest of my life with.

 

It also demonstrated the Mate bond really well.

 

Not only did he start tugging at me when I’d astral projected, he gave me somewhere to come back to.  Then I’m sure he used the bond to hold me up and give me time for my body and magic to do their thing so I could recover.  Not forgetting that Martin did something to hide my scent and Peter tracked me successfully using only the bond.

 

I try really hard to shut down my thinking on what that all means to me, because I’m fairly sure the only way I’m getting away from Peter is if he’s dead, and I can’t see that happening in any way that would benefit me.  The people that are capable of killing him are not normally the good guys, and anyone that kills Peter faces death at the hands of the other werewolves because Mates are sacrosanct, but another Mate could kill him and get away with it, leaving his murder down to me, or some other hitherto unknown set of Mates.

 

Scrubbing my hand over my face I get on with my work, I’m determined to keep up as much as I can.  I know that Peter will be paying for me to go to college but I still want as good a GPA as I can get.

 

I’m doing Chemistry when I feel an itch between my shoulder blades, “Hey honey,” I murmur, “How are you feeling?”

 

“Good, thank you,” He says and I turn to see him blinking that lazy sleepy way when he first wakes up.

 

“Awesome, it’s just gone lunch, you hungry?” I ask him and I wish I could photograph him like this, he looks so normal, so soft and cuddly.

 

“I can make it,” he says and the covers start moving.

 

“Nope,” I launch myself at him and it must surprise him because I pin him to the bed.  “You stay there mister, none of this getting out of bed except for toilet breaks.  I meant what I said when I told you to stay in bed all day.”

 

Meekly he backs down and I trot off to go and make us all food, I drop Richard’s off and the way back and then carry the rest on the big ass fancy tray that came with the place.  Peter sits up in bed and I tuck the covers up over his chest before letting him eat.

 

It’s only soup out of a can and some bread, but he eats it all up and I tuck him back into bed so he’ll rest while I wash up.  Richard brings his own stuff down and volunteers to cook dinner so I can take care of Peter.

 

Happy to get out of cooking I take him up on the offer and go keep Peter company some more. 

 

He ends up sleeping most of the day away, to the point that after dinner I’m worried he won’t sleep tonight, and I might be used to him creepily watching me sleep but I don’t want him to screw up his sleep cycles.

 

“I’ll be fine Stiles,” he assures me, “I was more tired than I realised, I’m glad you pointed out that I need to take care of myself too, sleeping all night with you in my arms will not be a problem.”

 

Since I missed my normal workouts today I do some twisting and stretching stuff, I still need to build myself back up, it doesn’t take me long and I do feel better for it.  Peter watches me the whole time with a dozy expression and his eyes flickering red now and again.

 

Before getting ready for bed I check out the whole of the apartment and make sure it’s locked up tight, then I say goodnight to Richard and slope off up the stairs.

 

Peter’s waiting for me and as I strip off he whips the covers back so I can cuddle into him.  Pressing a quick kiss to his mouth I turn over and let him spoon me again.  His temperature feels right and I let myself start to fall asleep in his arms, not once do I to touch the subjects of Beacon Hills, or why Peter was so submissive to me today, they’ll do for other days when I’m more Peter free or I have my dream Pack back to normal.


	28. Chapter 28

It doesn’t take Peter long to retake the initiative in our relationship.

 

By the time we wander to breakfast, after my yoga and swimming session, he’s back in charge, his hand might be cradling mine gently as we walk in step, but I’m not fooled into thinking I can run, even if I got away and hid the Mating bond from him I’d still be hunted by any werewolf near me, and there’s nothing to stop Peter going after my dad.

 

Sitting at our usual table I push it all away and let myself get lost in the routine Peter’s building.  I don’t fight any of his suggestions and I let him get away with locking me away in the proverbial tower.

 

I’ve sort of escaped once already, which means I can do it again, it’s just a matter of picking my battles, and deciding what I really want to fight for.

 

Richard keeps staring at us and frowning, occasionally he flicks his eyes over to an empty table, one that my dream Pack are relaxing around and sipping dream coffee at.  I’m very careful not to look at them or acknowledge them in any way while Peter is anywhere near me.

 

Strolling back to the elevator I hold Peter’s hand as he presses the button to our floor.  I walk into our hotel suite and head towards the stairs to start my school work when Richard clears his throat, “Peter, Stiles, I think now is the time to finish the conversation about Stiles’ magic and being a Spark, and a few other things.”

 

Seriously?  He’s picking now to talk about this stuff? 

 

As Peter is back to his controlling ways he sits regally in the corner of the couch and puts his arm along the back of it, it’s a clear invitation of where I’m supposed to sit, so I do.  His arm moves to the back of shoulders and I let my hand rest on his thigh, the heat under my hand calms me like it did when we had dinner at Marianne’s.

 

Richard sits bolt upright in one of the armchairs and stares at us.  He’s studying how we’re sitting and I tense beside Peter. When my Pack starts to materialize outside the big window I just know something is about to go very wrong.  It doesn’t help that Derek is pacing and frowning, or dad is twitchy, and Scott is frowning.

 

Peter’s finger rubs on my shoulder and I relax a little at his touch.

 

“How do you do that?” Richard asks and I have no idea what he means.

 

“Do what?” Peter’s being polite and playing at being nice.

 

“That,” he points at me, ”You’re touching Stiles and he’s leaning into you, not away from you,” Richard’s body tenses further, “Jenny cannot bear to be touched by people, and I may have spied on other abusive relationships, not once do the abused do anything but flinch, and I can’t find any bruises on Stiles, not one.”

 

“Why would Stiles be afraid of me?” Peter asks, “I don’t hurt him, I don’t want to hurt him, I want to keep him safe and take care of him, to protect him.  I want to share my life with him until death do us part, and I plan on living for a very long time. He is everything to me.”

 

Blanking my face so Richard can’t read anything on it I zone a little and lean into Peter more, I let him blanket me from what I really want to say.

 

“Hmm,” Richard’s back to studying us and I know my heart is beating a touch too fast to be causal, but since he can’t hear it I should get away with this, whatever this is.  “Your energy is too twisted up for me to believe that Peter.  Stiles’ energy is pure and you’re draining him, using him to keep yourself under control.”

 

“And your point is?” Peter’s going quiet, his voice is softening and Richard is treading on some very dangerous ground, I think he’s questioning my relationship to Peter and Peter is never going to accept that, he’ll kill Richard first.  Suddenly my dream Pack acting so anxious is making sense, this could end very badly.

 

“My point is that every indication I have of you points to you being abusive, cruel, sadistic, and that doesn’t even count the rumours I’ve heard about you, about Houston,” Richard’s frown gets bigger and he sits back in the chair which cuts the tension in the room down nicely.  “I don’t understand why Stiles is so trusting around you, he actively seeks your touch, he doesn’t reject you on any level.”  Running his fingers through his hair he sighs, “You shouldn’t work as a pairing, this should be destroying Stiles but it isn’t, you should be tearing him apart and wrecking him, instead he’s healing.”

 

I don’t want to piss Peter off by saying the wrong thing so I pick at my finger nails and wait to see what Peter will say next.

 

“I can see the point you’re making, I think,” Peter’s smooth as honey voice says, “But I’m struggling with a few parts of it.  I’m not sane Richard, I’m quite broken, I accept that.  I was never nice before the arson that destroyed my family, then the snapping of pack bonds and being locked in my own head twisted me beyond sanity, I am not and never will be the man I was before.  I live in a world with few if any joys in it. Oh I enjoy besting my opponents, I love to scheme and plot, Stiles can attest to that, but I am well aware that I am my own worst enemy, without an effective anchor I will quickly fall to bloodlust, I’ll be an animal that will paint the world red.”

 

His other hand, the one not occupied with my shoulder moves across his lap to take my hand, “I awoke to that rage and lust, I covered Beacon Hills in blood, only those that hurt my family,” I squeeze his fingers gently, “But when I ripped out the throat of the woman who orchestrated the murder of my family I felt nothing, it simply fed the rage,” he pauses and I can see him lean in towards me, he presses a gentle kiss to my face.

 

“Stiles had already begun to penetrate the rage, it wasn’t enough right then, my judgement was too clouded, so he was forced to kill me to protect himself,” he means when I set him on fire.

 

“He killed you?” Richard seems surprised.

 

“Oh don’t let the gentleness of my Mate fool you, he’s unbelievably ruthless if you threaten those he loves, he’ll happily sacrifice for them, but he’ll also get a very bloody revenge if you push him,” Peter’s smiling and letting his real self out.  “He’s incredibly dangerous and he’s getting stronger every day.”

 

“Technically I didn’t kill you,” I point out, “I just weakened you,” I don’t mention how I did it.

 

“It was still your plan, without your intervention I would have slaughtered everyone, including you my sweet Darling,” he snuggles me in more firmly against him.  “As horrific as it was to be set on fire, again, the wait for my resurrection was worth it.  Your influence continued to work on me, I had so much more control, and I still didn’t realise just how important you were to me. I foolishly chased power, becoming an Alpha again didn’t sate it and you were forced to gang up and chase me out of town,” he sounds proud of me.

 

“It was the wakeup call I needed.  After than I simply devoted my life to you Stiles and I have so much more joy in my life,” he frowns, “The blip in Houston wasn’t my fault, they carjacked me, they brought it on themselves, they were hurting the people they kidnapped, so in a way I did the world a favour.”

 

And that is so Peter, he tends to justify all of his actions.

 

Rubbing his chin Richard muses and then nods, “I think I can see your world view, but does it really preclude you hurting Stiles?”

 

“Yes,” Peter doesn’t hesitate and then he pauses, “No, no it doesn’t,” he twists his body on the sofa to face me, “I have made mistakes with Stiles, the times in Beacon Hills were the worst, I briefly hit him in the parking garage so he would be safe from the police too,” he starts to look nervous, “And I didn’t understanding what raping him would do to him.”

 

He lets go of my hand and lifts his fingers to my face, “He was so brave that first time,” in my lap I fist my hands but don’t move away as he strokes my jaw gently, his eyes catch mine and he’s not hiding anything.  “He told me it would hurt him, I didn’t understand at first, I saw the way he reacted afterwards, I took care of him, but I didn’t understand, I swear I didn’t know Stiles.”

 

I want to punch him, to hold him, to kick him, to bury myself in his arms, to kill him and watch him die so he can never hurt me or frighten me again, and I want to watch him wake up and be all sleepy and fuzzy.

 

His eyes are searching my face and he whispers, “I promised Stiles, I promised I wouldn’t do that again, I meant it.  You are everything to me Stiles, everything, I won’t risk you.”

 

I let him reel me in and when his arms slide around me I automatically put mine around him.  He nuzzles into my neck and I mimic him, he’s murmuring “Mine, all mine, my Stiles, mine, my Mate, mine, all mine.”

 

“Yours,” I agree and keep my face from Richard, I’m not sure what I’m feeling, I’m confused, so I hold onto Peter and wait to see what happens next.


	29. Chapter 29

We seem to have confused Richard even more, because when Peter finally lets me go Richard has the most comical expression on his face, I don’t think Peter’s behaving the way Richard expects him to.

 

I’m trying to ignore my dream Pack but they’re getting even more wound up, I don’t know why, this little demonstration should have stopped that.  Unless they’re upset because Peter admitted to raping me, that could be it and then they’re all shaking their heads.  Damn, they can’t even get close to give me a hint because Peter’s energy drives them away and Richard would spot them.

 

Clearing his throat Richard looks baffled, “So you’ve hurt him, raped him, realised you made a mistake and you’re actually changing your ways for him?”

 

“Yes,” Peter barely flicks a glance at Richard he’s too busy staring at me, “I’m trying to learn from my mistakes, to make Stiles as happy as I possibly can, he will stay with me forever and he will have his happy ever after, he deserves a happy ending.”

 

That makes me flush and I’m going to say something to lighten the mood when he moves closer and shoves his face close to mine, “You do Stiles, you deserve that happy ending and I will get it for you even if I have to destroy the whole world for you,” he’s also smiling his genuine happy smile, which is very creepy.

 

“I don’t need you to destroy the world,” I point out to him.

 

“I know, you’re so easy to keep happy, to keep entertained, I both want people to see you as I do and to lock you away so no one will ever see you again,” and I have to head off that kind of thinking.

 

“Yeah, locking me up isn’t good Peter, that would make me unhappy,” and the way his eyes widen and he looks upset means I now have a possible new weapon in controlling him, I’ll have to be careful how I use it, and when, but I hope it’s going to be a good thing.

 

“I know, you need people,” he doesn’t like it, “I don’t like it, they could take you from me Stiles, tempt you away from where you belong, but you won’t have to worry I’ll make sure you stay safe and I’ll never let them take you away,” and that’s the Peter we all know and want to run screaming from.

 

“I’ve told you before Peter, I’m not interested in people that way, friends are good, I can hang out with them and then come home to you, or have them as visitors and they can leave us in our home, together.  It’s healthy for me to mingle with people,” Holy mother of god please let him accept that.

 

“I know,” he sighs unhappily, “I know, I don’t have to like it though.”

 

If anything that little exchange freaks Richard out completely and he paces up and down the room.  Suddenly he stops and stares out of the window right at my Pack, I stiffen beside Peter and I’m starting to get an inkling of what might go wrong.

 

“And what about them?” Richard points at my dream Pack and I know he can’t really see them but Derek’s growling at him and even Scott’s wolfing out.  If Peter acts the same way towards them that he did in the last hotel it’s not going to go well for me.

 

Peter’s staring at where Richard is indicating, “Them who?”  I don’t enlighten him and my heart is speeding up, I don’t want him freaking out so I try and embrace the moment of running through the woods with Scott but it slips away from me.  “Stiles.  You’re getting upset.  What’s upsetting you Stiles?”

 

Aw crap.

 

This is not going to end well I can just tell, “Peter,” I turn my full attention to him and stare into his eyes, for good measure I hold onto his hand too.

 

“You’re very upset,” he tilts his head to stare out of the window, there’s clearly nothing there and his eyes narrow and blaze red.

 

“He’s broken off fragments of his own mind and given them form and power, of course he’s going to be upset,” Richard says.  “I thought he’d made them because of you, instead he made them because of someone before you, he shattered himself when he was at his weakest to stay alive and as sane as possible.”

 

The only sound Peter makes is a growl as he pulls me closer to himself and wraps his arms around me, “Mine,” vibrates through my ribcage.

 

“Yours,” I pet him gently and he’s not hulking out this time.

 

“Peter,” Richard snaps his name, “Do you understand what this means for Stiles?  Parts of his mind, his soul, the things that make him him are now wandering around and are slightly separate from him.”

 

Jerking his head around Peter stares at Richard, “His soul?”

 

“Yes,” flopping down into the other armchair Richard waves a hand, “No one willing does what Stiles did, not unless they’re crazy, you don’t break yourself like that, yes they bring you power, but the cost,” he’s horrified.  “Stiles explained he made the first two after,” he stops and then carries on, “After the first time with the man the FBI hunted on my lands.”

 

Growling threateningly Peter spits out, “Brad,” I flinch and when Peter tries to comfort me I deliberately burrow into him.  “Go on.”

 

“I’m having to guess but the abusive situations he was in would have only exasperated the soul wounds, not only from the abuse but from how he made the first of the Egregore,” His voice softens, “He’s lucky to be alive, making them could have killed him.”

 

I didn’t know that.

 

Whining Peter pets me and asks, “How do we get rid of them?” My knee jerk reaction is to push him away and run, no one is getting rid of my dream Pack, grabbing his shirt in my hands I hold my breath to hear Richard better.

 

“You can’t, not only are they almost indestructible, but to damage them is to damage Stiles, even potentially killing him. They are part of him, they live because of him.  In time he could learn to use them, the most obvious is as an early warning system, they can be used to gather information, it depends on the creator, and how they’re made.  Stiles made them in extreme need, they will never have full power because of it, but they will help to stabilise him, help him heal his own mind and soul wounds.”

 

“They can’t take him from me,” and Peter’s back to that.

 

Snorting Richard leans forward, “Peter, when Stiles is trained in magic, not even you will be able to make him stay, not if he doesn’t want to,” and that makes me stiffen in Peter’s arms, shoving away the thought I try to relax and breathe Peter in.  “But, if you’re as serious about making him happy as you seem to be, and from the way he acts around you, I’d be surprised if he did leave,” goes to show what he knows.

 

“So I must put up with these interlopers? Let them near my Stiles?” Peter’s seriously unhappy now.

 

“They are parts of Stiles,” Richard says yet again, “They aren’t interlopers, they ARE Stiles, different pieces of his psyche but all Stiles.  Without them he would be little more than a vegetable now and that spark that makes him him would be gone.  His body would breathe, his heart would beat, but there would be nothing inside, nothing at all.”

 

“Stiles,” Peter mutters my name, and then I’m being lifted up bridal style, “We need to talk, privately,” and I’m carried up the stairs to our bedroom, he shuts the door with a kick of his foot and gently deposits me on the bed. 

 

Damn it why does he have this need to carry me everywhere?

 

Crawling onto the bed he takes both of my hands in his, “Stiles, I will accept them because Richard believes they are part of you, but if they tell you to leave me, you have to tell me and we will deal with them together, you can’t leave me Stiles,” and he’s working himself up again, “You cannot leave me, ever.”

 

“Honey,” I’m not sure how to placate him without lying.  He got me into this relationship with duress, he was willing to ‘persuade’ me to go with him, and I’m mostly aiming to leave him when I can.

 

“Son,” Its dad, “Tell him about the morning of the wedding, how we kept you calm, helped you with your clothes and only wanted you to be happy.”

 

And that’s an awesome idea, “Peter,” I can’t move my hands so I have to lean forward towards his face, “Honey, remember when we got married?  In the morning I was kinda nervous, it was a big deal,” he’s searching my face and breathing deeply to catch all my emotional scents.  “I wish you could see them sometimes, because they kept me calm, the girls fussed over my clothes and helped me get them right, and if you could have seen my dad and Scott they were balling their eyes out over how grown up I looked.  It was kinda embarrassing and since I couldn’t have the real deal on my big day they stepped in for me, they were there to see me get married, and they only ever want me to be happy.”

 

Going absolutely still he keeps staring at me, for once getting in trouble as a kid and having my dad as a Sherriff is handy because I don’t break or twitch.  Finally he nods and lets my hands go, “Fine, but they can’t take you away from me Stiles, you have to stay with me, you have to be mine, I won’t tolerate anyone taking you from me.”

 

“I know,” I reach out and pat his knee, “So what do you want to do today?”


	30. Chapter 30

I can’t work out if I’m mad at Richard, or if I’m happy with the stunt he pulled.  Peter is both better and so much fucking worse than he used to be.  He’s ‘accepting’ my dream Pack but I still daren’t interact with them when he’s around, which is all the time now, he won’t even let me use the bathroom on my own.

 

My Pack are trying to think of things to get Peter off my back.  I’m giving them free rein but I’m ignoring some of Scott’s more outlandish ideas.

 

So far I’ve put up with Peter’s increased level of possessive behaviour and I didn’t think he could ramp it up further but he’s proved me wrong.  It’s been a few days and I’m getting ready to snap when Derek appears, “Mr Williams is in the elevator, the rest of the parameter is clear.”

 

Of course he vanishes before I can ask him anything and then Peter’s clearing his throat and staring at me, “Hey Peter, that was dream Derek,” I’m careful to use the ‘dream’ tag all the time, “He said Mr Williams is in the elevator and the rest of the parameter is clear,” then I go back to my school work, my Chemistry isn’t going to write itself, unfortunately.

 

Isaac and Boyd have teamed up and are helping me to stay calm and not scream at Peter, so my heart will be nice and steady right now.  I soon hear the tapping of keys again so Peter must be working again too.

 

When we hear knocking on the door Peter goes to answer it, I stay put like a good little Stiles and Richard is busy with a pig of a site he’s designing.  I know he hates this project because I’ve seen his face when he’s been talking to his customer, he doesn’t like the man at all.

 

Shame.

 

I’m not happy in the slightest that his life is awkward as hell right now too.

 

“Stiles,” Peter calls up the stairs, “We have a visitor.”  I’m guessing that I’m supposed to go down and bound down the stairs to find Mr Williams taking off his coat and kicking off his shoes, “Mr Williams has come to give us some news.”

 

And Peter’s pissed right now, I have no idea why, so I cross over and take his hand in mine, “Hey Mr Williams, s’up?”

 

“Many things Alpha Stiles, I have some news for both of you,” he grimaces, “And I’m here to update you both on the hunt for Alpha Klaus.”

 

Peter ushers him through to the living room and takes his normal seat on the couch, I obediently sit next to him and keep holding his hand.  I notice Peter doesn’t offer Mr Williams anything to eat or drink and I get to watch Mr Williams fold into the chair in a way no human could, the creature inside the body wiggles a few times and then settles.

 

“In short the whole hunt is a fiasco,” our lawyer launches straight into his news. “Alpha Klaus and his pet blood user have been planning this for some time, we’ve dismantled all of her outer wards, and that exhausted many of the magic users, we’re patrolling the outer reaches of the territory and we think we’ve exterminated about half of the werewolves that were made by Klaus, but the ‘medical emergency’ cover is only going to last so long,” he sighs and inside of the body he’s wearing he glares out.

 

“This is going to take much longer than we thought it would,” Mr Williams is not happy about this, “We’d hoped to clear it up and then let you two go home, but it’s too dangerous.  Richard or his son can protect their legacy without worry, but any werewolves will investigate the scent of an Alpha, and with no other Betas around they may make the mistake of believing Peter to be weakened prey, we want to keep both of you safe, and werewolf related instances are not conductive to that.”

 

“We can stay here for longer,” Peter says calmly his fingers twining with mine, “If we get cabin fever I’ll take Stiles to the theatre or something, if not there’s no reason to leave our hotel.”

 

Damn it, he’ll never give in and let me out if he thinks he’s protecting me.

 

“I do have a counter offer,” the ghoul says, “With the events in Beacon Hills now over, you could perhaps visit…”

 

He doesn’t get any further because Peter wolfs out so quickly his clothes are now ruined and he’s on his hands and knees in front of me growling his ‘I’m going to kill you now’, growl.

 

“Alpha Peter?” All Mr Williams does is cock his head at Peter, “Is there a safety issue with Beacon Hills I need to be aware of?”

 

“Um…” I raise a hand, “Peter going to Beacon Hills is a bad idea,” a really bad idea, not only for him but for me and those I care about.

 

“Hmm, in that case I retract my suggestion, that will not be suitable at all,” As usual Mr Williams isn’t writing any notes, “I also doubt you’ll be interested in the news from there then either.”

 

Peter’s shaking his head but I blurt out, “Yes, yes, we want to know what’s going on there,” I get to see Peter’s neck swivel round with the bitchiest bitch face ever.  “Please I need to know my dad is okay.”

 

“Very well,” Mr Williams sits up, “I’ll give you the main points, a new Hunter family, the Mercury family, a somewhat unstable off shoot of the Argent family, moved in, and it turns out their Matriarch not only dabbled in things she shouldn’t she because a full blown blood user,” and she must have been the woman I saw there.

 

“Chris Argent became entangled in whatever nefarious plans she had, the local werewolves were forced to step in and rescue him,” he pauses, “It’s most interesting that while their druid was captured and kept asleep the wolves were able to take down a blood soaked mountain ash ring, their reputation is rapidly turning to dangerous and their Alpha, Derek Hale,” Peter growls at the name and moves closer to me, his Alpha shape blocking my line of sight of the ghoul.

 

“Ah yes he would be your nephew then, well he does seem to be giving you a run for your money, his reputation is becoming very bloody,” That doesn’t sound like Derek, he’s all bark with a tiny bite, he’ll bite if he has too but he hates it.  “Not only did he kill you to become Alpha for himself, he was able to kill a Kanima, defeated Gerard Argent, killed the Alpha Pack members, and he either runs out any other wolf that enters his territory or kills them,” Mr Williams sounds unimpressed but I’m startled, because I was there for most of those events and that’s what happened, kind of, but it’s not all of the story.

 

“Oh where was I, yes Derek Hale’s reputation as a wolf you don’t cross is getting stronger.  I’m surprised he’s allowed a second Alpha wolf to stay and share his Pack,” that must be the female that wanted to Mate him, huh, that would be big news but Mr Williams didn’t mention a Mate, I wonder what went wrong?  “He’s also known to have some very deadly humans in his Pack, I would be loath to upset the Hale Pack of Beacon Hills right now, their star is very much in the ascension and I’ve heard rumours of non-aggression treaties being set up, the neighbouring areas are covering their flanks.”

 

Butting in I move to see around Peter better, “So the Pack is stabilising, protecting territory, that’s awesome, but my dad is the Sherriff, is he okay?” And yes I want to know more about my Pack but I have a wolfed out Peter on my hands, I have to prioritize right now.

 

“Ah yes, the good Sherriff of Beacon Hills, it seems he also got married recently,” oh shit he really did marry the harpy, “And the adoption has gone through nicely,” oh god he adopted the harpy’s kids too?  “We’re keeping an eye on him because of his links to you Alpha Stiles.”

 

Damn it dad why did you have to marry that bitch?  She’s only going to use you and spit you out afterwards.  Upset at how shit my dad’s life is turning out to be I slump on the couch and sigh.  Peter is instantly there and his huge clawed paws touch me so gently as he tugs me into a hug.

 

“Is there an issue with your father’s marriage?” Mr Williams asks, “The few rumours I was able to verify suggested that the town had been waiting for him to marry the nurse, after all she is the mother of the boy you were always with.”

 

Wait? What?

 

Lifting my head from Peter’s shoulder I gape at the ghoul, because I sure as shit did not hang out with the harpy’s delinquent kids, the only person that fits that description is Scott, which would mean his mom married my dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look it’s the weekend again…


	31. Chapter 31

Stunned into silence I just stare at Mr Williams. Did he really just hint at what I think he just hinted at?

 

Stirring in front of me Peter asks, “Whom did he marry?  Her name, we need her name.”

 

“Melissa McCall, now Stilinski,” And wow, just wow.  It took me a while to come to any kind of terms of my mom dying and until then I ignored Scott’s wishful thinking of our parents marrying. He always hoped my dad would adopt him because then he’d have an awesome dad.  He also told me that he knew his mom couldn’t replace my mom, but he hoped that one day I might get an extra mom, so wherever my mom was she wouldn’t have to worry so hard over me because she couldn’t be there with me.

 

“Dad married Melissa and not the harpy?” I breathe out, “And dad adopted Scott?” I check with Mr Williams who’s nodding, “Wow, just wow, we always wanted that to happen, for them to be happy, and we’d legally be brothers.”

 

Scrubbing my hand over my face I grin and then give Peter a hug, “Crap I thought he was going to marry the gold digging harpy bitch, instead he married Melissa.  Peter can we send them an email? Or a card? We should send them a card, and flowers or whatever else you’re supposed to do when someone gets married,” and just like that I’m happy, I’m seriously fucking happy.

 

Laughing for the first time in days I can barely sit still, I want to do a victory dance and jump around like a crazy person.  For once something in my life is going right.  And then I remember the rest of what Mr Williams said about my dad getting married and I grin like a loon, “And my adoption?  For Melissa to make me her son?  What do I need to do?  Have they contacted you yet?”

 

I’ve never seen Mr Williams hesitate like this before, “Alpha Stiles, I’m not aware of anything being filed for your new step mother to adopt you.  The only adoption was for Scott.  I’ll recheck and make sure the services there know to contact me in the event of an adoption.”

 

My heart plummets to my feet, and I grasp at his words, they might not know where I am to adopt me, but Peter said he spoke to dad, so dad would know where I am.

 

I don’t understand.

 

For a few brief seconds I’m totally bewildered and then everything crashes back, how dad kicked me out, how I got in the way, how no one ever wanted me.  It’s why I left Beacon Hills.  And that just begs the questions of why Melissa would even want to adopt me, because it might encourage me to go back, and this time I’d drag Peter along with me.

 

“Stiles,” It’s my dream dad and I turn to see him unable to get anywhere near me, “Son, breathe Stiles, keep breathing, you can do this,” I’m only vaguely aware of my body struggling to get air in, “Stiles, you have to breathe,” I don’t really see the point and then my wrist is tingling and someone yanks on it.

 

I take a sharp breath in and Peter’s rubbing his Mark over mine, he’s still in his Alpha shape and he’s muttering, “Stiles, Stiles, breathe, breathe for me Stiles, please Stiles, please.”

 

“Peter,” I whimper it and when he lunges forward to grab me and carry me up the stairs to our room I don’t fight him, for once his caveman tactics are useful because I am so not in the mood to deal with life right now.

 

“Stiles,” Peter’s patting at me and pulls me into him as he curls around me on the bed, he’s so much bigger like this so he nearly manages it.  Hiding in his arms I try not to cry because I’ve screwed my life up so much my own family can’t bear to have anything to do with me, they haven’t even tried to do a token adoption, or told me to wait until I’m older, or that I’m married so I’m an adult and they don’t think I need adopting.

 

He’s the last person I should be asking but I still force the words out, “What did I do so wrong that my dad hates me Peter?  Is it because I lived and mom died?  Is it the ADHD? All the lying I did? I was just trying to keep him safe.”

 

“Stiles,” He croons it right into my ear, “You’ve done nothing wrong, nothing at all.  Your dad doesn’t know about werewolves he misunderstood your behaviour, he doesn’t know how brave his son is, how strong, how special.”

 

Of course Peter is nuts and totally crazy pants, he’s also obsessed with me to the point of having a crazy cupboard as a shrine to me so he’s totally biased, but it still makes me feel a bit better.  And he has made an excellent point, dad doesn’t know about the werewolves, he doesn’t understand why I did what I did, he might still be mad at me but it’s for the wrong reasons.

 

I’m upset and pissed off now.

 

Well I’m upset and covering it with being angry, it might not be the healthy way to go but it stops me feeling so hollow inside.  Peter’s big claws are stroking and patting me as he tries to comfort me and I let him.

 

Strange how the man who scared the crap out of me when I first met him and still does a lot now I’m married to him is the one holding me and taking care of me.  He doesn’t seem to mind that things go wrong around me, only that I might get hurt, if he wasn’t insane that would be somewhat nice.

 

“Do you want me to kill them for you?” Peter asks me.

 

Oh my god.

 

Why is that always his answer to problems?

 

“No,” I’m firm in my tone, “No, they may have hurt me but please don’t kill them, they’re my family, it’ll hurt me more and make me very unhappy if something bad happened to them,” I try out my new tool to control Peter.

 

He huffs, “Fine, but I think they’re fools for ignoring you, Melissa is welcome to adopt you as long as you don’t ever leave me and they don’t ever set foot in our territory.”

 

It startles a laugh out of me, I will never understand Peter’s logic but I’m guessing he can’t grasp that if someone adopts you they’ll want to see you and he’s doing his best to make that impossible for Melissa.  “Whatever you say Peter.”

 

He should be relaxing instead he stiffens next to me and then someone is knocking on the doorframe of our bedroom, “Is Stiles alright?  What happened?” It’s Richard.

 

Twisting in Peter’s arms I peek over the top of his body, “Hey Richard, Mr Williams came with some news, it was a little upsetting, I just need some time please.”  And pretty please don’t meddle, you’ve upset Peter enough over the last few days.

 

“Okay, I’ll be downstairs if you need anything, just call,” and he does back out of the room closing the door behind him.

 

Collapsing into Peter’s body I just lay there numbly, I’m not sure I can take much more, I need a break.  To my shock Peter doesn’t say anything he just holds me, sniffs me and pets me.  It’s nice.  It’s just us and I close my eyes, I’m tired and I want to go home, in my head I see my room back in Beacon Hills and the bedroom I share with Peter in Wolf Creek.

 

I don’t think I know where home is anymore.

 

“Peter?”

 

“Yes Stiles,” he waits for me to say something and when I don’t he asks, “Stiles?”

 

“Peter, can I have curly fries tonight? I know I’m supposed to stick to the diet, but I really want curly fries,” I know for a fact that curly fries are my go to comfort food, and I really want some comfort right now.

 

“Of course Stiles, anything you want,” he says and I wish he could give me what I want, only what I want is miles away on the other side of the country and he’s adopted someone else to be his son.

 

“Can I watch cartoons too?” I just want to switch my brain off and forget about life, I just want to be a teen for a while, to get off the crazy ride that is my life and have some time out.

 

“Yes Stiles, I’ll get the laptop and you can watch anything you want to,” he leaves me just long enough to get the laptop and then he’s tugging at my clothes, I help him strip me down and then I crawl under the covers.  The crack and creak of bones comes from Peter and then he’s sliding into the bed too, I pillow my head on his chest and for the rest of the day I hide from the world.

 

I also get my curly fries as an animated Batman outwits his opponents and makes the night a little safer for the animated people of Gotham.


	32. Chapter 32

Peter’s spoiling me, this is the third day in a row that he’s massaged my feet and I’m certain we’re going to run out of massage oil soon.  He’s also trying out some things he saw on the internet so I’m buck naked on the bed as he starts working his way up my legs.

 

Strong firm fingers rub my muscles and while he’s a god on my feet he’s damn good on my legs too.  They always describe massage as ‘digging’ out tension, but Peter teases it out and I grunt as my legs become useless jelly under his ministrations.

 

What he does to my ass should be illegal and then my back, oh god my back, I can only lay there in ecstasy as he drives me to the edge of consciousness and tips me over to float gently on a sea of awesome.  He does my arms and legs and my neck and then I’m fast asleep.

 

Waking up to soft classical music I grin as recognise the same album from the garden in Salt Lake City.  Stretching I groan at how good that feels, if he ever loses the business he could totally make a living at giving massages, people would hand over fortunes to get his hands on their bodies.

 

Wiggling I decide to get up, slowly, because I feel like I’m floating on fluffy little clouds of awesome.  “Peter, I’m up, and I want a shower please,” doing another stretch I grin to myself, I already feel stronger and that yoga is paying off.

 

Padding into the bathroom I get the towels ready and fiddle with the shower controls to get the water just right.  To waste time I pee and then Peter’s walking in and shedding his clothes, “Hey, that massage was the best Peter, you’re amazing.”

 

“Thank you,” he ushers me into the shower and gets to work cleaning the oil off of me and I groan as he sort of washes and sort of massages me at the same time.  He lathers my hair, “We should get this cut soon, do you want it buzzed again, or a bit longer?” He tugs at the strands and I shrug, I don’t really care about my hair, “We’ll try longer, if you hate it we’ll buzz it again, I’ll ask for some scissors tomorrow and cut it for you.”

 

“Wow you cut hair too?”  And of course I’m not allowed to go out and find a barber to do it.

 

“I know the basics, enough to cut it to a rough shape, if it needs layers and things that’s beyond me,” he’s rinsing me and then I stand to one side as he sluices himself down.

 

He picks out some clothes for me and I follow him out of the bedroom, I really don’t want to do this but Mr Williams was upset that I’d gotten upset and he’s dug into Beacon Hills and asked to present his findings.  Richard’s butted in and he’s in on the big presentation too.

 

Glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall I have a little over an hour so I hang around Peter in the kitchen and let him distract me.  He puts me to work peeling potatoes as he slices and dices a chicken, he’s making a big casserole.  I finish the easy jobs as Peter adds the final touches and puts the dish in the oven.

 

Padding out of the kitchen with him I sit right next to him on the couch and fidget as we watch TV, Richard comes to see what we’re doing and then slouches in the arm chair he’s decided is now his.

 

All too soon Mr Williams is here and we troop upstairs to the office area, he’s brought a laptop with him and even a projector which he sets up with the minimum of fuss, he must have done that a lot to be that proficient.

 

Straightening up he clicks to the first slide, ‘Beacon Hills,’ “Alphas, Shaman, my last visit was not to mine or your satisfaction, as such I’ve dug deeper into the Alphas’ old home town.

 

“I thought I’d start with a very short explanation for Alpha Stiles about his family,” I’m not happy about starting there and I reach out to snag Peter’s hand with mine, “We’ve discovered that while his father the Sheriff did indeed marry the nurse Melissa, the adoption was not filed until after Scott McCall’s father Agent McCall petitioned for full custody of Scott.”

 

“Whoa Agent dickface did what?” I did not see that coming, his dad is a waste of space, yes I get that he’s an FBI Agent so he’s not going to be around that much but the guy is an idiot and never acted like he wanted Scott in the first place.

 

“He’s trying to get full parental custody of Scott and attempting to ban Melissa from seeing her son again,” Mr Williams says.  “You’ll see from the screen that the paperwork for the adoption was filed after the Stilinski-McCall household were made aware of Agent McCall’s actions.  Agent McCall is refusing the adoption and it’s gone to court.  From what little I could gather about the proceedings the Judge is leaning in favour of Agent McCall.”

 

“What!” I jump up because there’s no way Scott is going to lose Melissa, “Why the hell is the Judge doing that?  Agent Moron walked out on them when Scott was little, and the times he had to take Scott because of parental access he was awful, once he even just dropped Scott off and left him at the ER because Scott had an asthma attack.  He’s not fit to look after stuffed animals let alone a living teen.”

 

“Stiles,” Peter’s arms slide around me and I don’t snap at him, “I believe Mr Williams has more to tell us.”

 

“Yes, thank you Alpha Peter, I was going to say that the Judge is a very firm believer in family and stability for the child.  The Agent’s lawyer is using Scott’s recent behaviour as grounds to show Melissa is losing control of Scott, obviously Scott can’t defend those actions because he can’t say he’s a werewolf.  And the lawyer is using your father’s drinking habits and the fact you left Beacon Hills in a hurry as further evidence that the Sheriff is not a fit parent.”

 

Struggling in Peter’s arms I growl and then bark, “What?  What the hell has my dad being unable to cope with my mom’s death got anything to do with this?  He’s an awesome dad, he did everything he could, if anyone screwed up our relationship it was me, it’s my fault not his, and that freaking lawyer had better watch what they say.”

 

If anything Mr Williams smiles, it’s his predatory one, “In that case I’m sure you’re going to love what we’ve found out about Agent McCall.”

 

Intrigued I let Peter sit me back down as Mr Williams pulls up a new slide and there are three photos on there, “I have to admit he did well to hiding these, but our researchers are very good at their jobs, here are the other McCall children and the three other women that Agent McCall married after he married Melissa.”

 

Holy mother of god.

 

I knew the guy was bad news, that he was a self-righteous jerk, but this is so epic I can’t even process it, I know my jaw has dropped and I’m thinking back to all of those business trips he had to take, the times he was stationed away for long months in other states, how much of dick he was to my dad when mom was sick, like he was blaming dad and me for mom getting sick.

 

How many times did Scott stay over at mine and cry because his dad kept calming telling his mom that the divorce she filed for was stupid and that if anyone should file for one it’s him because she was such a fail of a woman.  How many times did he make subtle digs at Melissa to the point that dad wanted to punch him.

 

“Huh,” is about all I can manage.

 

“If this information were to find its way to the Stilinski-McCall lawyer, is this the kind of information that would help them in the long run or injure them? I know that humans have strange ideas on betrayal and trust.  How would Scott cope knowing he has multiple brothers and sisters?  Plus we’d then tell the other Mrs McCalls of their fake spouse’s actions,” Mr Williams stands there waiting and I have no idea.

 

Except I kind of do, Scott always wanted a big family, he wanted lots of siblings, he said I was an awesome brother, until I screwed up and he replaced me with Allison and Isaac, god no wonder he took to Isaac so quickly.  Nodding I tell Mr Williams, “Yeah, that information really should go to their lawyer and if there’s any way you can let Agent McStupid know I had anything to do with this coming to light, please feel free to rub that fact in his face.”

 

“Certainly Alpha Stiles, if I can have a few minutes to make a phone call to my office I’ll start the ball rolling on it,” he bows his head and leaves us.

 

It’s like a weight’s off my shoulders, and my mind clicks things together, dad didn’t adopt Scott and forgot about me, he adopted Scott to protect him from his bio dad.  He doesn’t think I need to be adopted because he thinks I’m married and safe with Peter.  And yeah Melissa knows better and so does Scott but how do they tell dad about werewolves?  So my big breakdown was for nothing and I can just relax and be happy for dad because he married Melissa.

 

Which brings me back to, “So what are we getting my dad as present for marrying Melissa?”


	33. Chapter 33

Considering how he got Peter worked up and almost in a rage when we had our magic talk, Richard is being completely reasonable and backing Peter up, “He’s right Stiles, there’s no need to hurry, take your time contacting your family, you’ve been through a lot.”

 

“Stiles,” Peter’s at his calmest which means he’s probably angry, “We can send the card, even the flowers, or a present, I know your dad means the world to you,” and his eyes flash red, he’s probably getting jealous and I don’t care, I want to talk to my dad, I need to do something for him.

 

“And that’s why you should start slowly,” Richard carries on as Peter’s wingman, “A few things at a time, nothing too big, lay the foundations before you try spanning the gap between you.”

 

“You know I only want you to be happy Stiles,” And they’re tag teaming me.

 

“Give yourself a break, heal yourself, there’ll be time to talk later,” and I really want to punch Richard right now.

 

Huffing I cross my arms and lean away from Peter, “Whatever.”

 

That’s when Mr Williams rejoins the fray and he’s singularly unimpressed with my efforts to contact my dad, “I actually concur with your husband on this matter Alpha Stiles,” Peter doesn’t get too smug at this point, “Your family is in the middle of a legal battle, it’s best not to distract them, offer them help by all means, and maybe they’ll take that as an olive branch and contact you.”

 

Stiffening in his seat next to me Peter freaks out for a few seconds and then relaxes, “I’m more than happy to act as a go between for you and your family Stiles,” his big blue eyes are full of sincerity and I’m instantly on my guard, he’s up to something and I’m betting it will be to block me from talking to dad.

 

“That’s very kind of you Peter,” And I honestly mean it, if Peter were genuine in his offer the first couple of exchanges would be made easier if someone could step in, but this is Peter.  He’s smiling at me and I take a deep breath, “But no thank you,” the smile is wiped off of his face like it never existed, “If my dad does try to contact me I’d like to be WITH you when he does,” I’m careful to emphasis the ‘with’, “I need to do this Peter, but I don’t want to do it on my own.” I hold my hand out and he takes it, “Having you there to back me up, to know you’ll be there to help me, that would make me very happy,” god it is so hard to lie to a werewolf, you have to believe your own words, and if I’m there to hear what Peter’s saying he’s more likely to be good and not try to screw my relationship with my dad over.

 

It’s not like I even need help to mess things up with my dad, I can do that on my own.

 

If this wasn’t so important, watching Peter battle with himself would be as amusing as hell, he clearly wants to tell me no, but he also wants to make me happy.  Pasting on his fakest smile he says, “Of course I’ll be there with you Stiles, you’ll never have to do anything by yourself ever again.”

 

And that’s a little of what I’m afraid of.

 

Leaving the whole subject alone I hold Peter’s hand firmly and wait for Mr Williams to tell us what’s been going on in my old home town.

 

“Going with what little information we can get,” Mr Williams points at a time line and there are a hell of a lot of notes on it, “We’ve come up with this simple time line,” he points to the wall where the projection is, “Here is where Alpha Stiles left Beacon Hills, the area was stabilising up until that point and almost immediately after a female Alpha tries to take over the territory, the Pack were forced to kill her.”

 

Huh, guess the woman Derek’s with now wasn’t the only female Alpha in the area.

 

“We can tie up some rogue hunters making runs at members of the Pack and their subsequent arrests while Alpha Stiles was settling in his new home in Sacramento.  They heavily targeted a previously unknown Banshee,” and Peter’s hand spasms in mine, I lift an eyebrow at him and he shakes his head.  “From the intercepted reports between hunters they were able to kidnap her but she screamed,” and now Peter’s wincing, “And the Pack rescued her, she’s now a permanent member of the Pack.”

 

“Good,” Richard nods, “So few people understand Banshees and their link to death, she’ll be able to find any murder victims and help restless spirits move on,” well he seems pleased there’s some new supernatural thingy running around Beacon Hills.

 

“Indeed, and that leads us to the Druidic Nemeton, it flared up with twisted broken magic, and somehow the Pack talked their Druid Emissary into talking to the other Druids, the Nemeton was dug up and burned,” I have no idea of the significance of that but I remember the tree stump in the forest, I never did like it, but both Richard and Peter look like someone told them something so big happened they can’t get their heads around it.

 

“How bad was it,” Richard starts, “That Druids would destroy a place of power? One of their main links to nature and their magic?  Their Emissary sacrificed a lot to let them do that, it would have left them weak and vulnerable, almost powerless until a new Nemeton could be chosen.”

 

Okay when he puts it like that, and the fact Peter’s gone pale makes it a big thing, and what the hell is an Emissary?  They must have turned up shortly after I left.

 

“We have no conclusive reports but sources tell of Dragon parts being sold off,” all three of them look horrified and damn it was hoping dragons wouldn’t be a thing, or if they were they’d be cool and fun loving dragons that didn’t kill things or eat maidens.

 

“Then it’s a good thing Stiles wasn’t there then,” Peter says and moves his chair even closer to mine so our knees touch, “Dragons are extremely voracious beings, and they covert precious things.” I don’t point out that he just described himself.

 

Mr Williams carries on and there are a few more nasties that tried to take over before, “The Mercury family arrived, their matriarch was hiding her blood user status and our reports are sketchy but she did manage to capture Chris Argent, she took down the Druid Emissary even though the new Nemeton was established, and came close to breaking the Pack.”

 

Oh my god, that must mean I really was there.

 

Frowning at the ghoul Peter asks, “So what happened? I know for a fact that Derek’s little Pack of rejects and misfits are incredibly resourceful, only an idiot would take them on without a fool proof plan,” that makes Richard look at him sharply.

 

“Honestly we don’t know,” Mr Williams doesn’t look happy at that, and I have no reason to put my hand up and admit to anything.  “We do know that the land itself intervened.” Now Richard’s looking at me, I avoid eye contact. “Perhaps because the Druid’s life was in danger, the only other clue we have is that Alpha Derek Hale mentioned a black winged angel.”

 

“There are no such things as angels,” Richard states, “Not the way they are portrayed in religion anyway.”  His own eyes are fixed on the image on the wall, “And no one has any clue to this puzzle?”

 

“None, we’ve tried a few avenues and we’ll keep digging,” the image from the projector changes, “Until then the only thing happening in Beacon Hills is the custody case for Scott McCall, and we should be able to greatly influence the outcome of that.”

 

Damn, my Pack have been through so much and I wasn’t there to help them.  Somehow that makes it worse because this proves they never needed me, I might have even gotten in the way, slowed things down.  How many more people could we have saved if I hadn’t screwed things up while I was in Beacon Hills?

 

“Thank you Mr Williams,” Peter stands up, “We obviously need to come to terms with the news you’ve gotten for us, and if you could keep us up to date on the court case, I’m sure Stiles is anxious for his family to be safe.”

 

“Of course Alpha Peter,” they shake hands and Peter offers to walk the ghoul to the door.

 

Left alone with Richard I sit there and brood while he sits and stares at the wall the projector had been pointed at.


	34. Chapter 34

I’ve tried fighting Peter.  Arguing.  Used logic. Sulked. Negotiated. Almost anything I could think of that wouldn’t get me killed.

 

I’ve never tried moping.

 

I never even realised it could be used against him.

 

The last few days I’ve moped around the suite.  Now that my family know about Scott’s dad and his other families, things are looking up for them.  Not so much for Agent McCall, he’s banned from seeing Scott, and the other three families are about to drag his sorry ass to court, as well as those pesky bigamy charges hanging over him.

 

I should be happy.

 

I’m not sure why I’m not.

 

Tapping on the keyboard I read about covalent bonds and really who gives a fuck?  It doesn’t matter if I study or not, Peter’ll just pay for me to go to college, I can go anywhere his money can take me, just not to Beacon Hills, just not to my dad.

 

They haven’t tried to contact me and I’ve been with Peter 24/7 so he wouldn’t have had a chance to hide a failed contact attempt.

 

Sighing I slump forward on the table and wonder how long until dinner and then bed, at least Peter is still acting like the best insomnia cure ever invented, I’ve never slept as well as I do when he’s around, and it’s another eight hours of my life I don’t have to be conscious for.

 

“Stiles,” Peter’s getting grumpy with me and I really should be toeing the line and being good but it’s so much of an effort right now.  I grunt out a response and then he’s standing up and walking over to me, “Stiles, this isn’t healthy, you need to snap out of it.”

 

“Why,” Is my apathetic reply, I don’t even have the energy to add the question mark at the end, it’s pointless.

 

“Get up,” he tells me and I don’t move, he gently lifts me so I’m standing and guides me down the stairs.

 

When he tries to put my shoes on I try to pull my foot out of his hands, “Peter I don’t wanna go downstairs, the gym is boring, I don’t feel like yoga, and the pool is too small.”

 

“You’re not going there Stiles, I’m taking you to the park,” that surprises me enough I hold still and he gets the shoe on.  “We used to go there most days and you said the park liked you.  Now let me get you ready to go out.”

 

I don’t know whether to believe him or not but I help him get me ready, and that means shoes, a jumper, thick coat, hat, scarf and gloves.  I feel stupid wearing so much and then he puts the same kind of things on and we’re ready to go out.

 

All the way through the elevator ride I vibrate in place and I keep waiting for him to come up with an excuse on why we can’t go out, but then we step through the lobby doors and out in the snowy New York streets and I quickly learn to swear about ice.

 

Sure we get snow and ice in California but it’s like winter has something against New York.  In the park things are easier and my breath steams in the freezing cold air.  There are massive areas in the snow that people have been making snowmen on and there are snowball fights going on even now.  The trees are laden with snow lying along the tops of their branches and I’m allowed to let go of Peter’s hand and frolic in the snow as the park itself sleepily murmurs under my feet.

 

I’ve still not recovered fully from my illness and hospital stay so I have to keep stopping and resting by Peter.  We stay for most of the afternoon and as the sun starts to go down I’m shivering and Peter hustles me back to the hotel.  In a role reveal from last week he runs me the bath and makes me drink a big mug of hot chocolate.

 

Slurping on the scalding hot beverage I race him to the end and I obviously win because the bath is only part full, “So go and load a movie or two Stiles,” he tells me and I bound off to do as he says, he also calls out to get me to leave my pizza order with Richard.

 

A Richard who’s sitting downstairs reading, “Did you have fun today?” He asks.

 

“Yeah, it was awesome,” I babble at him about the snowy stuff I saw, I describe it to him and then realise he’s lived in this area all of his life, and he’s in the mountains so the chances are he’s seen more snow that this.  “Sorry I’ve not see this much snow before.”

 

He laughs at me, “I gathered, and you should embrace your wonder Stiles, I’ve always loved the snow and my grandfather would take me out to ride a sled down the side of one of the hills on the Wolf Creek side every winter.  I’d end up feeling like I was flying down that hill and I never wanted it to end.”  He stretches out in the chair, “I’ll have to dig the sled out when I get back, my kids are too big now, too grown up to play in the snow, if you wanted to borrow it to go sledding with the other teens you’re more than welcome to.”

 

“Really?” I conveniently forget I’m supposed to stay in New York for the foreseeable future.

 

Pointing a finger to his ear he then points up to where my bathroom is in the suite, “Yes there’s plenty of things for you to do and enjoy in Wolf Creek, and it would take you a life time to see and do them all.  I know the fishing in the area is amazing, and you back right onto the lake, I’m sure a bright young man like you could keep yourself amused for hours swimming and splashing around with your friends.”

 

I really don’t understand Richard at all.  First he helps me, then he winds Peter up, then he sides with Peter and now he’s doing this.

 

“The great thing about Wolf Creek is you can really spread your wings,” he holds my gaze and I try not to twitch, “What pizza did you want me to order?”

 

“Um…” Blurting out my order I do my most nonchalant exit and then scamper up the stairs to Peter.  A Peter’s who’s humming and who smiles at me when I walk into the bathroom.

 

“You only wanted a meatlovers pizza Stiles?” He totally listened in, “I thought you’d go exotic.”

 

“It’s my pizza and I wanted meatlovers,” I pull my clothes off and toe off my socks at the same time.  “What did you order?”

 

“Me?” He unbuttons his shirt and shucks it off like a model, it’s swiftly followed by his under shirt and then he reaches for the button on his jeans.  “I went for the seafood one with extra prawns.”

 

“Oh,” It’s so unfair, I know Peter’s gorgeous and this guy is really into me, and yes there is a part of me that is interested, but it’s buried under this tonne of shit and I step into the bath as Peter finishes taking his trunks off in a way that I’d have happily ogled before I met Brad.

 

Twisting he bends to pick up his shirt and the guy’s ass is so perfectly formed, it’s round but not too much, firm but has that touch of softness, and yeah he’s hairy but again not too much.

 

“Stiles,” Peter’s still twisted up and he’s staring at me, wow it’s like he’s the one doing yoga not me.

 

“Um… Yeah?” I try for innocent and give him epic eye contact.

 

“I was asking if you wanted to see if Marcie was free to come over tomorrow, or you could meet her in the park?” He stands up slowly and stalks towards the bath showing off his werewolf abs.

 

“Um… Sure?” Damn it I’m um-ing again.

 

“I’ll give her mother a call after our bath,” he slides into the water and it barely ripples, the show off.  Under the bubbles his legs bump mine and I settle into the hot water to let it warm me back up as I watch Rapunzel let down her hair.  I still think the horse steals the film though.

 

The bath does the trick and I do warm all the way through, the pizza is awesome, Peter does call Marcie’s mom and I have a play date in a few days, most teens would upset about getting a playdate with a kid but Marcie is cool.

 

Getting into bed with Peter later that night I yawn as he wraps himself around me, “Stiles,” his breath tickles my ear.

 

“Yeah?” I snuggle down and close my eyes.

 

“I’m sorry I made you so unhappy for the last few days,” and my eyes snap open.  “I needed some time keeping you close to me, I know I have,” he pauses, “Issues with my possessiveness, but you have to be mine Stiles.”

 

Half asleep probably isn’t the time to discuss this but I ask, “Are you going to need time like that in the future?”

 

His body moves even closer to mine and there’s something poking me in the back, I’m fairly sure he can’t have anything in his pockets as he doesn’t have any right now.  “Yes, I’ll need time like that again, I need you so much Stiles.”

 

“Okay,” I refuse to freak out, “We’ll talk about it when it happens then, maybe we can both handle it better next time.”

 

“Thank you,” he kisses my shoulder, “And as we’re stuck in New York I hope you’ll understand that I may need to buy certain movies, my porn collection is at home and it’s been so long since I last orgasmed.”

 

“Okay,” my voice is a lot less calm right now, “We’ll get you some tomorrow, we’ll kick Richard out and make him stretch his legs, you can hole up in the bathroom and I’ll be a good little Stiles and sit quietly, or as quietly as I can, in the office.”

 

“Thank you,” he noses at the nape of my neck, “You are so good to me Stiles, so understanding, I’ll work harder at making you happy.”

 

I lay in his arms for a long while before I finally fall asleep.


	35. Chapter 35

When I agreed to go shopping for DVDs with Peter I was under the impression we’d grab the same DVDs as before and get the hell out.  Instead I’m standing next to Peter as he shops around the horror area of the giant store and he asks my opinion on various movies and if I think it would be a good one for him.

 

“Honey, I really don’t like those kind of movies anymore, I know they’re porn for you, but they really aren’t for me,” I spot a goth looking girl in an employee’s uniform and hope to god she either knows her horror or knows someone else who does.

 

She doesn’t know her horror and goes off to find Eric.

 

Eric looks like he’s fifteen and there’s something off about his eyes, the other vision I have flickers in and out and he’s a very twisted up butter yellow.  He and Peter hit it off straight away and I get Peter to agree to let me go stand in the animated section with Sandy the goth because I really don’t want to be part of this discussion.

 

Hurrying away I leave Peter to enjoy himself while I lose myself among mostly happy movies where good beats evil, Sandy is awesome company and she knows the words to most of the songs, we duet and bond over childhood memories and then she leads me to the bargain bucket and I dive in.

 

Preoccupied I delve and dig and let myself get distracted by all the nice shiny covers and titles.  I’m not going to buy anything but it’s fun to search and then remember some of these movies.

 

“Peter’s just finished buying his DVDs and some magazines,” Derek’s leaning over and pointing, “Seriously you watched that film?”

 

“It was awesome,” Scott pops into view and regales Derek with the terrible plot and wooden acting.  I try not to laugh at Derek’s face, he can pull the weirdest expressions.

 

Mind full of Peter’s imminent arrival I wait for him and I get to see him walk slowly towards me, something is totally off and he’s holding the bag full of his swag in front of him.  “Stiles,” he stops next to me, “We agreed we would go straight home after this shopping trip.  I think we should get a taxi.”

 

Other than using the car and chauffer from our honeymoon hotel, Peter’s insisted we walked, or used the subway and has rarely let us use a taxi, something’s wrong.  And then I notice his eyes are blown wide and his fingernails are a bit longer.

 

Aw crap.

 

He’s totally aroused right now.  “Okay, let’s get you back to the hotel,” I take his free hand firmly, it’s slightly sweaty, and then I lead him home.

 

The taxi ride is quiet and Peter stares out of the window for most of it, his breathing has sped up and his teeth are lengthening, I do my best not to panic as that will simply fuel the change.  I pay the taxi fare and extract Peter with the minimum of fuss then I hustle him upstairs and past Richard who’s ready to go meditate in the park.

 

Locking our guest out I help Peter by grabbing the laptop from the office.  In the bathroom Peter’s struggling with his clothes, “Stiles,” he growls at me, he’s completely wolfed into a Beta form, “I can’t get the buttons.”  And his claws are now fully formed.

 

“It’s okay Peter,” I start unbuttoning his shirt for him, “I can undress you but I won’t load the films for you, I can’t look at the films, I’m sorry but I don’t need the fodder for my nightmares.”  I unzip his pants and he’s so hard it’s difficult to manoeuvre there without catching him, he’s whining every time I brush him with my hands and then he’s free and I try not to think how wet the front of his pants and trunks are.  “Okay last bit and you’re home free.”

 

Dragging the material down his legs I get his shoes off, and his socks, then the rest of his clothes.  “There you go Peter, do you need any lotion? I can get the massage oil for you.”

 

“No,” his voice has changed and his mouth is full of teeth, “I’ll be fine thank you Stiles.”

 

“You’re welcome,” I beat a hasty retreat and try not to wonder how he’s going to do anything with those long talons on his fingers, because there is no way in hell I’m touching his dick any more than I have to.

 

In the office I switch on the iPad he got me and distract myself with games and hitting up the internet for funny videos to watch.  It’s fine for the first hour and then I start to worry because I can’t hear anything, thank god, but then again I can’t hear anything so I don’t know if he’s okay.

 

Thirty minutes later I start to pace and then trot downstairs to get bottles of water for Peter, the guy has got to be dehydrating himself right now, maybe I should get him some kind of protein too.  Putting together a cheese and ham sandwich I snag some fruit too.

 

Placing everything on a tray I leave the tray on the office table and google sperm to find out what else I can get Peter when I hear a huge crash coming from our rooms, the crash is suspiciously like a body hitting the ground and damn it if Peter kills himself masturbating I’m putting that on his tombstone, tastefully, but it’ll totally be on there.

 

Running to our rooms I skid around the corner to go through the walk in wardrobe, and I find Peter collapsed in the shower, thankfully he turned the damn laptop off and I can’t see any DVD cases, but there is blood and other stuff that smells like cum which I ignore until I really do skid on the tiles and nearly into the shower with Peter.

 

A Peter who’s barely stirring and he’s smeared in blood and other stuff too, in fact he’s covered in other stuff, “Stiles?” He slurs it and his eyes are big, and blown so wide I can’t see the blue in them anymore.

 

“Hey Peter, dude, you need a hand?” I really don’t want to touch but I’m not sure I can just leave him here either.

 

“Shower, turn on, please,” he doesn’t even point just stays slumped as I turn the water on and check it’s warm enough.

 

“Okay,” I hover uncertainly, “Do you need anything else?”

 

He shakes his head, “No, no I’m really good right now,” his eyes are drooping shut and he mutters, “I’ll wash and clean up and then I want to nap with you.”

 

“Yeah, well you’re eating first before the nap, I made you some sandwiches and got you water,” he’s still not moving and maybe I should have checked what he bought because that Eric kid could have picked anything for Peter to watch, and I frown as I stand there a bit uselessly.

 

Other than a grunt from him I don’t get a reply, I take another look around the bathroom and there’s blood and stuff all over the freaking place, he even got it on the ceiling, seriously there are lines of his stuff up there, and over the walls.  How the hell did that much stuff come out of one guy?  Why isn’t he dead?

 

“How the hell aren’t you dead?” I point to the ceiling, “I get that you’re a werewolf, but Holy Mother of God Peter, did you explode or something?”

 

A low chuckle comes from him, “Just very virile for my age Stiles, plus it’s been a while, it builds up.”

 

Huffing at him I reach out and crank the shower controls up  to clean him faster, “Whatever Peter, Jesus, there’s build up and then there’s build up, dude that is an over the top build up.”

 

And then I can’t be in here anymore, “Okay call me if you need me, your sandwich is waiting for you.” Backing out of the bathroom I’m careful where I put my feet and peel my socks off at the door, then I wipe them on the nearby mat and try really hard not to think about what I could have on my feet.

 

Burying myself in the iPad I have to wait a further forty minutes until Peter emerges from our bedroom, he’s wearing my clothes and his hair is sticking up at odd angles, he looks totally debauched and he’s shuffling his feet.  He sniffs the air and homes in on the sandwich, it’s the first time I’ve ever seen Peter eat food like he’s so hungry he can’t wait.

 

“Do you want me to make you some more?” I ask and his mouth is full of sandwich but he nods so I walk slowly and calmly to the stairs and then try not to look like I’m running away as I go down the stairs.  More sandwiches later I bring them up to Peter who’s chugging down the water.  “Hey got you more food.”

 

This is the most wolf like I’ve seen Peter, he’s ripping into the food and I get more water from him and then grab the milk too.  Fascinated I watch as he finishes all the food, the fruit, the water and he even drinks all of the milk straight from the carton.

 

“Better?” I ask and he nods and then blinks sleepily.  “Okay, let’s put you down for a nap,” I would take him to our bedroom but I don’t know what state the bathroom is, so I take him downstairs to sleep on the sofa.  His head hits the cushions and he’s out like a light.

 

Wow just wow, I sit curled up on an armchair and shake my head as I go back to my iPad.


	36. Chapter 36

True to his word Peter really does let me see Marcie, though I’m fairly certain he was aiming for more of a one on one meeting, not the insides of a giant kiddie playground surround by kids and their parents.

 

This place is awesome and as it’s owned by the Fifth Clan the age restriction is lifted for me and I get to crawl around inside with the kids.  Apparently saving an entire Clan makes you a bit of a celebrity to the point that everyone knows my name and Peter’s and they keep talking to us.  He’s been a bit possessive when the adults are around and as I work my way through the maze of the indoor playground he paces outside the kiddie area and watches me.

 

I’d forgotten how much fun these places are to play in.  There are ball pits, slides, monkey bars, see through crawl tunnels I can wave down at Peter in, a bouncy castle area, swings, and big foam animals everywhere.

 

Throwing myself into the ball pit after Marcie I try running, which is really hard to do with balls in the way, as she mock growls at me and chases me, it doesn’t help that she keeps stopping because she’s giggling too much.  The other kids want to join and it’s soon a free for all with kids squealing and laughing.

 

Dragging myself out of the ball pit I catch my breath and then get dragged into a game of growl, each of us has to do our best scary face and growl.  The little werewolves are really impressive and the human kids really go for it too, when it’s my turn I try to channel my inner Derek but the kids laugh at me.

 

“It’s okay Alpha Stiles,” Marcie tells me, “It’s the joining in that counts.”

 

The brat.

 

I get her back by tickling her and then we’re off racing through the play areas and coming up with lots of different games to play.

 

In the bouncy castle area I can literally bounce off the walls and then fall to the floor without hurting myself.  Damn that is fun and several of the kids copy me, I don’t think I’m being a very good role model right now but I don’t care and this is an amazing work out, adults should be able to go to places like this, but more adult sized, because this would make you burn some serious calories and the twisting you have to do, it’s a good thing I do yoga now.

 

The mark on my wrist flares startling me and I concentrate to find where Peter is, wandering over to him I smile at him through the netting separating us, “Hey Honey, this is fun.”

 

“You look happy,” he says that fake smile on his face, “But it’s lunch time and you and Marcie need to eat if you want to keep playing.”

 

“’Kay,” I agree and then turn to yell, “Marcie! Food!”

 

A speeding blur appears and she skids to a halt near us, “Food?” She looks at Peter who nods to her and then she takes my hand, “Come on Alpha Stiles, hurry, Alpha Peter got us food!”

 

He’s also gotten us a table out of the way and on the edge of the eating area, there are three trays and I’m impressed, he’s not gotten us too much, there are pieces of fruit and only a few starchy foods, things that should go through quickly and give us energy.

 

Under the table his knee touches mine so I press back and try to get our feet close together too.  Marcie is happily running on about what we’ve been up to in the playground and chatters as she skips over various subjects.

 

Finished with lunch she looks at Peter, “Alpha Peter?”

 

“Yes Marcie?” He’s gathering up our trays and being tidy.

 

“Mommy always says we should sit quietly after a meal to let it go down, so can me and Alpha Stiles go and play on the colouring tables?”  That was really sensible of her and Peter nods.

 

“Yes Marcie, that’s a really good idea.  Do you mind if I join you?” He lifts up the trays and gets to his feet.

 

“You’d really join us?” She looks happy at his suggestion, “That would be awesome Alpha Peter,” my influence is rubbing off on her, she’s picking up some of my words, “Come on Alpha Stiles, we’re gonna go colour and I know they have new colouring books too.”

 

The colouring tables are near enough to the playground the kids can see their friends, which is a bit cruel because who wants to watch when you can play too?  But Marcie is right there are plenty of colouring books and plain paper around, as well as a veritable rainbow of crayons to choose from.  The only downsides are the sizes of the chairs and tables, my knees don’t fit so it’s a bit awkward but I make do.

 

I help Marcie colour in some pictures, she picked out some ocean ones and the fish are cool with their big eyes and giant smiles.  Peter sits next to me and as he can’t put our knees together his hand sits on my knee as he watches me colour inside the lines.

 

Both Marcie and I get technical on the colours and we have discussions on colours and what each fish should turn out to be.  Peter hands us the crayons we need and even goes and raids other tables bringing back hard to find colours for us. 

 

At first it’s just us on the table, Peter crowding close to me when he isn’t hunting for crayons, and then one brave soul comes and sits near Marcie.  It opens the floodgates as more and more kids creep closer.  They start out asking Marcie for certain coloured crayons and she then asks Peter, but before long they start asking Peter themselves, always politely, always using the Alpha title and always saying thank you.

 

In the background their moms and dads hover anxiously and tense up whenever Peter moves too quickly.  Since I’m awesome I can colour one handed and make sure to leave my other hand on his knee when I can.

 

Marcie is her perfect little self and decides to tell the other kids how I found the engagement rings and then how Peter proposed to me.  Most of the boys screw their noses up and then get excited about stones that change colour, most of the girls sigh and want to know about our wedding, I hide my smile as I colour in Nemo and Peter tells most of the girls about our snowy wedding, some of the guys are impressed and want to know why we didn’t turn into giant icicles.

 

Peter shows far more patience than I ever thought he could possess.  He doesn’t snark at the kids, he isn’t mean, he compliments their colouring skills, he’s still not right, there’s still that something that lets you know he’s beyond dangerous, but it’s leashed.

 

When we’ve finished our colouring and our meals have gone down, I’m dragged away to go play again and Peter continues to pace around outside watching me.

 

Tired but happy I don’t put up a fight when it’s time for us to leave, and I jog up to Peter as Marcie’s mom is telling him about a group outing to go play in the park, “It’s just the Third Clan but it’s good to let the kids run around outside and mingle with the New York kids.  Marcie gets on with everyone and with us there it’s completely safe.  We had a few bad men circle the area and we got them arrested, so you don’t have to worry about Stiles being in danger.”

 

“We’d love to go,” Peter says and I lift an eyebrow as I reach him, “I know he enjoys Marcie’s company and Stiles is such a social creature he needs to be with people.”

 

“Just like the Twice Fallen King you care for him so well,” she nods to Peter and then to me and I don’t understand the reference or why Peter looks so surprised and then pleased.

 

Walking back with Peter I hum contently and ogle New York, I’m ahead with all my classes and my teachers are more than pleased with my progress, Richard is teaching me to build a better shield with two layers and the land is happy to lend me strength to keep healing myself.  Peter has gone back to being affectionate and things are looking up.

 

Absently I scratch the back of my neck and twitch my shoulders as they itch.  Strolling up to our hotel we go straight to the elevator and I wave at the receptionist as we pass.

 

“Peter?” I watch the numbers rise steadily to our floor.

 

“Yes Stiles?” His thumb strokes mine soothingly.

 

“Thank you for today, that was really awesome, it made me really happy,” I turn my head to look at him.

 

“Good,” he leans into me and kisses me so very softly, “I live to make you happy Stiles.”


	37. Chapter 37

Today is Richard’s last day with us, he’s driving back because Stuart has to go back to college and someone has to keep an eye on the thing that their family guards.

 

Since he didn’t pack that much it doesn’t take Richard long to get his few bags together and he offers to talk me through my shields one more time, “They’ll protect you against most magical foes Stiles, they won’t hold forever, they’re not designed to, and as you’re a Spark you’ll never have the power to access the more powerful abilities of a Shaman.  Of course you’re not tied to one path, you’ll be able to use all of them one day.”

 

Cycling through the shields I know he presses against them, testing them, “Yes, good Stiles, that’s good, I can feel the seamlessness of your shields.”  I beam over at Peter who’s watching us.

 

Smiling back at me he adds his own praise, “Little Raven well done on stretching your wings, I told you you were magnificent.”

 

“He will truly be a forced to be reckoned with one day,” Richard agrees and I can feel my head swelling.  “When things are safer for you both I’ll make time for Stiles and some more training, the land loves him and I think the lake will cooperate most of the time.  I’m sure I can think of things for you too Peter, if you’re going to be a team you should know how to work together, your strengths and weaknesses in any situation, that takes practice.”

 

The shrill ringtone of the hotel phone interrupts us and Peter answers it, it’s probably the car being dropped off, Richard left his in the hospital parking garage so Peter offered to pay the charges he’d accrued and get the car over here after having it checked and serviced.  That started a bit of an argument but then Peter said how Richard had saved my life so as far as Peter’s concerned he owes Richard and this was just a way of saying thank you.

 

Putting the phone down Peter grimaces, “I have to go down and sign for the car, the idiots at the agency I found have already been paid but apparently they need the signature to prove I got the car in one piece.  I’ll call up when I’ve finished filling in paperwork.”

 

Standing up I brush off my pants and then nod, “Okay, I’ll bring the iPad while you do that,” he tilts his head at me, “I’m coming with you right?”  He doesn’t let me out of his sight, and yes I can roam around in the suite but that’s about it.

 

“Stay,” he tells me and I must have misheard, “Practice some more with Richard, I know you like his company, and even though the Packs are now making some big breakthroughs against Klaus we may be here for some time, it might be a while before you see him again.”

 

“Thank you,” He’s really trying to give me space and other people’s company, “Be good down there, no killing people just because they annoy you.”

 

Snorting he comes to stand in front of me and pecks me on the mouth, “I always behave, it’s everyone else who misbehaves,” he makes me laugh and I wave him goodbye before sitting back down and working on my shields.

 

This is so much like meditating that I’m unsurprised when Boyd’s voice calmly helps me focus, breathing in and out I reach out to the land below me and the skies above me.  I’m not asking them for anything they’re just there like these big warm mental presences, and they like me so they do the equivalent of a hug.

 

“I can’t save you from him,” Richard’s voice breaks into my trance and my eyes snap open, he’s watching me and his face screws up in a grimace, “I am tied to my task, to my duty, that must always come first.”  His shoulders sag, “I cannot save you Stiles,” and his shoulders straighten, “But I can give you the tools to save yourself from him, from the other wolves, the ghouls.  It will take time but you will grow into your abilities, and then you will stand on your own two feet, and no one will be able to stop you or hold you against your will ever again.

 

“The land told me you were hurt when you first came to Wolf Creek Wells, but I didn’t realise just how deep the hurt ran. I knew Peter would hurt you and I thought I could use the physical evidence against him, instead you got better on the outside, you visibly healed in front of everyone.  Suddenly Peter was acting differently and it was clearly because of you.  You stepped in to save my daughter, Peter didn’t lay a finger on her, he even went so far as to kill her abusive boyfriend so he couldn’t hurt Jenny ever again.”

 

I’m not sure how to take this and I stare back at Richard a bit shocked actually, he scrubs at his face, “I have seen you only at your weakest Stiles, with few weapons at your disposal but you’ve destroyed the Judge and his daughter, you’ve brought the ghouls in to help me defend my duty, you’ve brought Peter to his knees,” throwing his hands up he snorts, “And now I know you spoke to the land at Beacon Hills and it moved at your request to save those you once lived with.”

 

Aw crap, Richard’s worked that bit out, I try and maintain an innocent façade but I don’t think he’s going to fall for it.

 

“I’m not sure the world is ready for you Stiles Stilinski, change and chaos follow on your heels and you will not have an easy life, it will be too interesting for that,” I’m sure there’s a curse somewhere about having an interesting life.  “Know that if I can help I will help, and my advice is to stay with Peter for the short term, his presence will keep the other werewolves away, he will shield you, give you a place to heal yourself, but at the same time I also know that staying with him against your wishes will hurt you when you so desperately need to heal, and I truly wish there was something I could do for you right now.”

 

My jaw has dropped open and he shakes his head, “Remember you are the Mate of a werewolf, just as you act as Peter’s anchor and stabilise him, you can use the bond to heal yourself, but be careful.  The more you use the bond the more it will sink into you, it will seek to bind you closer to him, you’ve already seen how it’s affecting Peter, you would have been the centre of his world anyway but now you are the only reason he lives, without you he’ll destroy everything he can before he kills himself to follow you.”

 

Swallowing I nod to let him know that I think I get what he’s saying, I don’t though, but at least I’m starting to understand some of Richard’s behaviour, he came to save my life and to teach me how to get away from Peter, safely, and to take my own life back again. 

 

No screw it I don’t understand all of Richard’s actions, he’s been a bit erratic around us, though the theme he’s been following since the big talk when he upset Peter has been more soothing, he’s stopped upsetting Peter for a start.

 

“Thanks,” I’m really not sure what I’m thanking him for but it’s polite and he nods and smiles so that’s good.

 

The Mark on my wrist flares and I know Peter’s running his finger around the circle, jumping I stare at it and then run my finger around too, like I’m chasing his finger.

 

“He’s seeking control,” Richard says, “He’s using you to get it, whoever brought my car over must be annoying him.”

 

“Stiles,” It’s Scott and he’s appeared from nowhere by my side, “Peter’s staring to lose his temper, the guy with the forms is being an idiot.”

 

Groaning I get to my feet, “Peter needs me,” I stretch up and go to get my shoes, “Oh and Richard, seriously, thank you, for helping me.” Or at least trying to help.

 

“You’re welcome,” He gets up too, “I’ll walk you down, perhaps I can use my abilities to throw whatever suicidal idiot is winding Peter up into a wall.”

 

“You can do that?” I’m curious about the things Richard can do, about what I might be able to do one day.

 

“Yes, I’ve chased a few sales men off my property over the years, it’s always satisfying to send them running away screaming,” he grins boyishly, “Plus it helps to keep the mystery and suspense about my family going in the towns.”

 

Laughing I swipe the key card to our suite and lock up as we amble to the elevator, “Man I could have done with that while I was in Beacon Hills, I can think of a few bullies I would have loved to have thrown into walls, and a few teachers.”

 

“Really?” Richard presses the button on the wall of the elevator, “I remember High School as a good place to go, neither of my three children hated it either.”

 

Three? Oh he’s counting Kevin as his, “Yeah well Wolf Creek is awesome, and they push you to do better without pushing, the place is a dump with almost no equipment but Holy Mother of god it’s better than Beacon Hills in every other way.”

 

Stroking my wrist I wait for the elevator to take me to the right floor so I can go rescue someone from Peter’s wrath as Richard tells me about how he used to be captain of the basketball team until his dad caught him using magic to keep up with his team mates.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, from the comments I've read I don't think I was clear enough. Richard meant that being a Spark means Stiles will not be limited to one way of magic, he'll be able to use them all, but that comes with a price, he'll be limited in that he will never be able to do anything 'powerful' or flashy, only ever the small magics. He gains versatility at the cost of power. As one of you said, 'A Jack of all trades and a Master of none'. Hope that helps :)

You wouldn’t think that not having Richard here would make so much of a difference, but it does.  Peter sticks to our normal routine and it’s weird how much of a comforting presence Richard was.  There’s a hole where he should be and my craving for company scratches at me, I try and fill it with online games but I miss face to face stuff.

 

Peter’s trying really hard at the moment and normally I wouldn’t care, I’d push anyone for more, except I can see that this means a lot to him, so I swallow my words and smile at him instead.

 

This is something I’m going to have to get used to anyway, I’ll have years with Peter before I can get away from him, until I can stand on my own.  God I hope Richard wasn’t joking and that I’ll be able to stop werewolves trying to claim me if I leave Peter.

 

No.

 

When I leave Peter.

 

Even if he is being adorable and he’s made me mice out of marshmallows, he’s even stuck stripes of liquorice in for whiskers, made eyes and a little black nose for them.

 

I don’t even bother resisting as I take a photo of them and post it online.  I’ve not been checking too often, I know myself a bit better than I realise because I know I would have hassled Peter about Wolf Creek more, and my friends there.  Friends that have worried about me and are griping that I may be doing the school work but I’ve missed several pop quizzes.

 

I may be evil and gloat at them.

 

I miss them.

 

I wasn’t there that long but I already miss them.  We didn’t really hang out after school because of Peter but they still welcomed me in, they made it so easy to make the jump to that High School.

 

“You smell sad,” Peter’s standing behind me and reading the screen on my phone.

 

“I’m missing home, I know I’d be in school now but hanging out with Aaron and co was good.  And I’d have your basketball to look forward to, I’d be able to kick Aaron’s virtual butt, you’d be happy because you got to play basketball, and then on Sundays we’d walk in the forest and I’d read to you,” Considering I’m only with Peter because he’s scary and people I care about would suffer he has built me a good life.

 

“Soon,” he wraps his arms around me, “The magic users have broken through more of the blood user’s wards, her magic is being eroded, the werewolves are making progress,” he snuffles at my ear, “Soon Klaus and his tame magic user will be dead and we’ll be safe to go home, you’re not the only one to miss the forest and the trees.”

 

The forest likes me, it tolerates Peter but it does like me.

 

“Want to go to the park?” He asks, “We can walk under the trees there, maybe stop off at a pizza place and have authentic New York Pizza, and on the way back we could catch a movie.”

 

“Awesome,” and it seems me being good and not pushing has paid off for once, “That sounds like a plan to me.”

 

“Good, and if it’s not too slippery I’ll race you under the trees,” he lets go of me to go and bundle himself up in winter gear.

 

“Unfair,” I point out, “Your werewolf abilities are a major cheat Peter, how is the poor little human supposed to keep up?”

 

Snorting he rolls his eyes, “You are many things Stiles, but a poor little human isn’t one of them, I need my werewolf abilities just to keep up with you, now don’t forget your hat.”

 

“Yes Honey, I’ll wear my hat if you wear yours,” he hates his hat, it messes up his hair and he puts in on with an exaggerated sigh.

 

He does race me through the wooded bits and we both slip and slide on the snowy ground.  Beneath my feet the land hums, the trees mutter in their sleep and the wind giggles as it dances through the trees.  Peter bounds and jumps around me whenever we’re alone enough, and the water swirls under the icy lake its depths groan as the ice sheaths it in false tranquillity.

 

Laughing at his antics I try to keep up and then he’s there by my side, the way he tips his head back to laugh draws my eyes to his neck and the way his eyes flash suits him.  “Stiles,” he picks me up and whirls us around, “You are the most amazing man ever, I am so lucky to have Mated you,” he lets me down and boops our noises as a few flakes of snow fall from a nearby tree branch.

 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” and I do mean it, he’s scarily smart, ruthlessly driven, and terrifyingly single minded.

 

“Want to get some pizza with me?” He asks and holds his hand out.

 

“Dude I’m always up for pizza, and you said authentic New York pizza,” I remind him and he grins at me.

 

“Authentic pizza it is,” and then he leads the way out of the park and into the city, we slip down in the subway and there are so many people, I could get used to this.

 

Making our way to the stop he wants we step out of the subway station and Peter points across the road when my back itches and out of the corner of my eyes I can see dream Derek growling at something behind us.

 

Letting go of Peter’s hand I spin and put myself between me and whatever has Derek riled up.  Which, as I turn to see the kid from the video store standing there, is probably a really stupid thing to do.  He’s radiating innocence and I back up into Peter, I shouldn’t show fear to a predatory but there is something seriously wrong with this kid.

 

Nothing about him is extraordinary, he’s boringly average in every way, his hair is brown but boring brown, his eyes are brown, his skin is mostly white but I know Scott so I know there’s that extra something, his height is average, his build is average.  He’s neither handsome or ugly, he’s just average.  Average, average, average.

 

And he not average in the way his energy is all twisted and it’s horrible to look at when it flickers into view.  If this kid isn’t a killer yet he will be soon.

 

“Eric,” Lydia says and I blink to take my eyes off of him to look at her, behind her Allison has her bow and she’s aiming it at his head, that’s not a good sign.

 

I’ve just done a one eighty in the middle of the street and acted freaked out at seeing him, only the kid isn’t looking at me, he’s looking at Peter who’s looking over my shoulder at the teen in front of us.  The boy has that something that reminds me of a hungry wolf, and it’s not aimed at me, it’s aimed at Peter.

 

“Hi,” Eric’s face transforms and the smile lands like a well-practiced mask, “Wow fancy meeting you again Mr Stilinski, what a small world.”

 

He’s really going to play the, ‘gosh how did I manage to bump into you here?’ card, I practically invented that card when I had a crush on Lydia, which now makes me wonder how much of a stalker I was to her.

 

“We were just leaving to go and eat, goodbye,” Peter dismisses him as if he’s nothing and my hand is taken firmly as Peter tugs me away.

 

The burning itch between my shoulder blades lets me know the kid is following us, that and Scott pacing nearby telling me the exact same thing, but hey my instincts are working fine too.

 

Inside the pizza parlour we’re packed next to others like sardines, and I’m startled when Peter drops my hand, but he uses it to dig out his phone and he’s texting someone.  Leaning in he whispers, “Stiles, stay close, do not trust that boy.”

 

“No need to worry,” I whisper back, “That kid is plain wrong.”

 

My ear lobe gets kissed as he says, “Yes your actions were a give-away that you don’t like him, I’ve text an SOS for some back up, the boy won’t bother us anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to those that spotted Eric earlier...


	39. Chapter 39

Hiding in the pizza place may have been a mistake, we find an area to squeeze into so we can eat our pizza, with fingers the proper way, when Eric worms in next to Peter.

 

“Oh hey again Mr Stilinski,” he’s still pretending to be chirpy and then Peter jumps and I notice that one of Eric’s hands is behind Peter.

 

Since this is Peter he doesn’t just accept what I think is a grope from Eric, he grabs the teen’s wrist and spins, in a surprisingly superhero-y way, so that Eric’s arm is up behind his back, “Do not touch me. Now leave us alone.  We want nothing to do with you.”

 

Released the boy doesn’t get upset or even rub his wrist, the wrist that’s probably bruised and hurt.  “But Mr Stilinski I don’t know what you mean.”  He’s not breaking from character, I’ll give him that much as I munch on my pizza, it’s good pizza I’m not stopping because of a teenage serial killer to be, I’ve faced worse than him, plus I have Peter backing me up.  Nothing like an Alpha werewolf as an ace up your sleeve.

 

“Stop it,” Peter is getting upset, “We both know our initial encounter may have been chance, but this one is not, you followed us, leave, now.”

 

I probably shouldn’t be so fascinated as two predators face off, but this is really fascinating, I have full faith in Peter to protect me, and in him to stop Eric doing whatever, and it helps that Peter told me he called for back-up and we’re in a very busy public place.  Eric has to play by the rules right now or he’ll expose himself and our lawyer is awesome, I doubt Eric’s is.

 

“It’s a free country, I can eat my pizza here if I want to,” Is Eric’s response, “Besides now I’m here I can ask you if you liked the films I picked out, a lot of people don’t like the extreme stuff, but you wanted the best torture and rape scenes, the most realistic ones.”

 

Now I’ve lost my appetite and I put the slice of pizza down, damn it that was good pizza too.

 

“The films were adequate,” is Peter’s clipped answer, “Your help was useful, it is not useful now, go away.”

 

“But Mr Hale,” a smirk quirks Eric’s lips and things have just taken a bad turn, how does this kid know Peter’s pre-marital name?  “I wanted to let you know I’m a big fan of your work.”

 

Normally people tense if you throw them a curve ball like Eric just did, instead Peter goes quieter, more focused and I’d feel sorry for this kid but I’m the kid of a Sheriff and I’m married to Peter, I know what a monster like Eric could do.  “My name is Stilinski,” Peter says and it’s his ‘I’m going to kill you slowly’ voice, you don’t screw around when he does that, he’s lost his patience and he’s just waiting to kill you.

 

“It is now,” pointing at me Eric adds, “You married him to get that name, but you are Peter Hale of Beacon Hills, and everyone who had a hand in the arson attack on your house is dead, all of them by animal attack, and then if you follow where you went after you left that place there’s a lovely little unsolved multiple homicide in Houston when you were there, the crime scene just screams your name.  You know the hardened cops there said it’s the worst thing they’ve ever seen, they even had to ID the smaller chunks with DNA. Oh and most of the law enforcement got shoved to therapy after visiting the crime scene.”

 

Holy mother of god who is this kid?

 

“How nice for them, what’s that got to do with me? I’ve been to Houston a few times on business, I travel, and I can guarantee there’s nothing at this make believe crime scene that could link back to me,” and this is the cool as a cucumber Peter that can scheme and plan your death right in front of you and then talk you into it.

 

“No there’s not a thing is there?” If anything Eric looks awed, “How did you do it? You left no human DNA behind at all, there was a report about wolf DNA but that got wiped from the official record,” I really don’t want to know what happened in Houston, but I know how Peter got away with it, I know about werewolves, and from what Peter’s said anyone stupid enough to carjack an Alpha werewolf is in for a serious surprise.

 

“Wolf DNA? No human DNA?” Peter’s mocking Eric’s words, “TV crime dramas aside, there is no perfect murder, no one could get away with what I think you’re hinting at.  I know children today have active imaginations but perhaps you’ve been watching too many horror movies, you should try living in the real world,” I know what Peter really is, and he’s doing a damn good snow job, most law enforcement would believe him right now, only the best would be listening to that voice in their head screaming at them.

 

Except Eric is a predator like Peter so he smiles and moves closer to him, what’s startling is the way he touches Peter’s arm and runs his hand down it, “You have no idea what my imagination has been conjuring up about you Mr Hale, you’re amazing, you’re perfect, and you walked into the store I work at. You talked to me and you understood, you got the point, you were as drawn to the best bits as I am.”

 

Oh my god.

 

Frozen I watch as Eric tips his head back to look into Peter’s eyes, “Think of everything we could do. I’m eager to learn from you, teach me, please, you’re a master at this, show me, I want to see everything. I’ve never met anyone like you before, so dynamic, powerful, clever, god Mr Hale, I can’t stop thinking about you, about our talk at work, it’s like your voice got trapped in my head and I want to show you my fantasies, I want to share them with you, I want to help you achieve the things in your head too.”

 

Peter doesn’t rip himself away from Eric the way I expect him to, and his pupils have started to dilate. What the fuck did those two talk about in the store if Peter’s reacting like this?  He was so aroused when he came to find me in the animated section, he was in bathroom for ages, and he looked blissed out at the end.

 

“Stiles!” It’s Derek, “Stiles, I don’t like Peter and I don’t want you anywhere near him, but you have to step in, you have to stop this.”

 

This?

 

Aw crap I’m watching two crazy killers get together, I’m watching the start of one of those twisted relationships as the seeds are sown.  Part of me is analysing everything, Peter would be the dominant partner, he’d coach Eric and show him such horrifying things and Eric would feed Peter’s murderous tendencies, they’d probably leave a giant pile of bodies in their wake because there’s nothing to link the two of them, the cops would take too many bodies to find the connection.  Peter’s smart enough to pick strangers too, if he can get over his anti-hunter issues.  I have no idea what Eric’s victims would have in common, but Peter could override those with ease.

 

I would never have picked Peter Hale of all people to be mine, but he is, and if I do this right I can save a lot of people’s lives right now.

 

Eric might be a human predator but he isn’t a werewolf, he doesn’t know what he’s dealing with and I do.  I know how to step in and stop this. Leaning in front of Peter I put my hand on Eric’s where it sits on Peter’s arm and say very clearly, “Mine.”

 

That’s all it takes.

 

Peter snaps out of it and is instantly plastered to my side, his arms wind around my waist and he nuzzles at my shoulder, “Stiles, of course I’m yours.”  I ignore the way his dick is rock hard and nudging my hip.

 

Eric might be scowling at me but he’s also studying Peter and how my husband is murmuring how much he’s mine, how he belongs to me, and I don’t hide the smirk that crosses my face, “Back off Eric, Peter is mine,” whether I want him or not, “You can’t have him, and don’t even think about hurting me to get to him, he’ll destroy you so slowly you’ll beg him to kill you.”

 

“No one will ever hurt you Stiles,” Peter kisses my cheek, “I’ll burn the world down and lay all their bloodied hearts at your feet first, I’ll bath the world in red for you.”

 

“I know you would Peter,” I pat his arm and then deliberately run my hand down the arm Eric touched, “I don’t need that though, my needs are much simpler.”  I know I don’t have a scary face, no one’s ever taken it seriously so I smile at Eric instead, “Don’t follow us, don’t come near us, stay away from us. I’m sorry you met Peter, I’m sorry your paths crossed, go back to your life and don’t try to steal my husband, you home wreaker.”

 

Somehow I extract us from the place and that’s when we bump into some other werewolves who came to save us, I point out Eric and warn them about him, two of them don’t believe me but the third one does and he’s in charge so they should be okay.

 

“Stiles,” Peter’s petting me, “Stiles I’m yours.  I promise I’m yours.”

 

Now to deal with the fallout from this.


	40. Chapter 40

The cab ride home takes way too long and Peter isn’t acting like I expect him to, he’s pressed against the far side of the cab, he isn’t trying to touch me, and he’s silent and statue still ignoring any of my attempts to talk to him.

 

At our hotel he pays the fare and when I automatically reach for his hand his fist is clenched, he’s never rejected me before, so I wrap my hand around his wrist as I puzzle over his actions.

 

Up until now he’s done everything he can to build our ‘Relationship’, any hint I’m not interested in it or I’m not paying it attention has had him aggressively getting me back on track.

 

Riding the elevator up in uncomfortable silence I don’t let go of him once.  We walk into our suite and Peter carefully twists his wrist so my grip on his skin slips and he moves away to shrug out of his coat. 

 

And then he strips down naked.

 

I get an excellent view of his very nice butt and then he’s stuffing everything he’s just taken off into the trash and stomps off upstairs.  I have no idea what he’s up to and Scott pops into view with a confused expression on his face, “Wow bro, he is seriously mad, the rage coming off of him right now…”

 

Peter stomps back down the stairs and he has DVD cases and a few magazines in his hands.  He shoves them in the trash too and then stalks over to the phone, he must ring down to reception because he says, “Hello, yes this is Peter Stilinski, I’d like our trash removed please, right now before it stinks up the place,” he pauses, “No, no it’s nothing you’ve done, it’s my fault.  Also can you have a spare hotel room readied in case I need it?”

 

Spare hotel room?

 

“Thank you, my husband will show you in for the trash, goodbye,” and then he marches back up the stairs and minutes later I hear our bedroom door slam shut.

 

“Well that’s not good,” Scott comes over to stand next to me.

 

Chris flickers into view, “Could this be the moment Stiles needs to get away from Peter?”

 

One by one the others appear until I’m surrounded.  I have absolutely no idea what to do next, Peter has never done anything remotely like this before, his whole being has been focused on me since Sacramento, it’s creepy as fuck but predictable.

 

It also made him controllable, to a point.

 

Dad leans against a wall with his arm around Melissa, “All stalkers end up hurting the objects of their affection, is this the sign Peter’s losing his grip?  Do we need to get Stiles out of here before Peter hurts him? Or kills him?”

 

“He won’t hurt or kill Stiles,” Derek sounds sure, “Stiles is Peter’s mate, Peter is programmed at his most basic level to protect Stiles. I don’t like him, I think he’s bad for Stiles, but he’s no longer a threat to Stiles, not physically, not sexually.  Now he understands that rape hurts Stiles he’ll never do that again.  He’ll back slide occasionally and try to lock Stiles up but he’ll relent and let him out again.”

 

We all relax at that and I nod at Derek, he nods back, we always could have long conversations without talking, not that he really listened to me.

 

If Peter isn’t coming unglued then I need to anticipate what’s coming next.  Scott said he smelt angry, is he mad at me for breaking up his little lovefest with Eric?

 

“No,” Erika’s peering at the trash, “He’s thrown away the DVDs Eric picked, he’s also thrown away the magazines he bought in the same shop.”

 

The other wolves move over to the trash sniffing the air, Boyd straightens up, “I can still smell Eric on the clothes.”

 

Lydia saunters over, “He said to collect the trash before it could stink up the places and that it was his fault.”

 

Stirring Melissa questions, “He’s removing all traces of Eric?  What’s he doing now?”

 

Jackson vanishes for a second and then comes back, “He’s in the shower, I couldn’t see much before he disrupted me, but it looked like he was scrubbing at the arm the kid touched.”

 

A knock at our door interrupts us and I go to let housekeeping in, the woman apologies and takes our trash out, I do my best to reassure her it wasn’t anything they’d done, and try to apologise too.  She leaves fairly happy and I lock the door behind her.

 

The wolves of my dream Pack stare upwards and Derek says, “The water cut off,” Whatever I’m supposed to do next, we need to plan it now.

 

I’m tempted to run, to just try and escape while Peter’s at a disadvantage, but I know Peter, I won’t get far, and Mate or not he might decide that killing me is the way to go.  Yet if I stay I’m with a suddenly unpredictable Peter, and Peter always has back up plans, will his back up plan be to kill me or to try and keep me?

 

Lifting up the collar of my coat I chew on it and then realise I’m still bundled up.  I strip that off and kick my shoes off, then I go to sit in the living room in Peter’s normal spot.

 

I go back to chewing and pick the cuff of my shirt, dad rolls his eyes but accepts it and we all listen out for Peter. I don’t hear the bedroom door open but my Pack do and they give me a heads up.

 

I see his feet as he comes down the stairs, then his legs, and finally the rest of him, he’s dressed again, in my sweatpants and one of the t-shirts I found for him, this one’s in green.  His face is closed down and he’s giving nothing away.  Scott darts in and says, “Still really angry but there’s pain and fear too.”

 

Anger could be at me and how I stopped him.  Pain and fear I don’t get, I need more data.  Lydia snorts, “Since when does that normally stop you Stiles?”

 

“Come on Batman,” Erika leans over the couch behind me, “You know you’ve picked up more than you think about Peter, he might only show you the sides of himself he wants you to see but you’ve noticed things he doesn’t want you to see.”

 

Unable to see my Pack Peter walks straight towards me and then veers at the last second to sit in one of the air chairs, that’s new for him too.  His whole body is rigid and he’s clasping his hands in his lap, he’s also playing with his wedding ring and engagement ring, twisting them around and around his finger.

 

The silence builds up between as does the tension, I hate the quiet so I clear my throat and try to be non-confrontational with him, “Hey Peter, you okay?”

 

“No,” is the only reply I get.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” I offer and I’m really not one to talk about my feelings, I prefer to ignore problems until they fix themselves.

 

“No,” and that’s not good I need him to talk to me, I need to have some way to get through to him so he won’t do anything drastic and overly dramatic, he’s a Hale though so I’m sure it’s in his genes, that thought earns me a bitch look from my Derek.

 

Melissa comes to sit next to me and she’s studying Peter, “Try touching your mating Mark, run your finger around it,” I glance at her and she shrugs, “You both do that when you want comforting or support.  If Derek’s right Peter will realise you ‘need’ him,” she air quotes at me, “And he’ll have no choice but to open up,” she pats my shoulder, I don’t feel it because she isn’t real but when she adds, “At that point it’s up to you to keep him calm kiddo, good luck with that,” I grimace.

 

Awesome.

 

I wait for anyone else to have any bright ideas and all I get is Derek telling me that mating is built in, and to use it, god knows how.

 

Biting the bullet I start to run my finger around the circle on my wrist, Peter jumps and then sits there shaking, I don’t stop and he wraps his arms around himself.  Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, and then he’s lifting his head to look at me and his eyes are burning red, “Stiles,” my name is just a growl and I really hope Derek is right about this mating thing.


	41. Chapter 41

Since I’ve started this I keep going and I rub the mark over and over.  Peter growls a few times and then sighs, the tension leaking out of him.  He falls forward and lands on the floor on all fours, he then crawls towards me, I’m careful to check his hands and they’re just normal hands, no extra claws.

 

Expecting him to stop at my knees it’s my turn to jump when he gets up on his knees, puts his hands on my knees and then applies a very small amount of pressure.  Bowing to his demands I let him open my legs and he shuffles forwards forcing my legs wider.

 

Arms wind around me and Peter ducks his head under my chin as he presses into the front of me.  It also forces me to either have my hands trapped by his body or stop touching the mark to awkwardly hug him.  I choose the latter as it frees up my hands.

 

Patting his back I rub it too and wait as I’m not sure what to say without setting him off, he’s not acting like he should, I’m finding it hard to get a read on him.

 

God I hate waiting.

 

Luckily Boyd is on the other side of the room coaching me, helping me keep my heartbeat calm, to reach that peaceful place, I always struggle with it but he’s patient with me and I mostly succeed.

 

 “Stiles,” Peter’s voice is muffled by my body and it sounds off, almost broken.

 

“Yeah Peter?” Please let this be the opening I need.

 

“Please don’t leave me,” his hands move to grip my shirt and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to get away from him to leave him.

 

Confused I hesitate and he stiffens in my arms, “Please Stiles, stay with me.”

 

My Pack aren’t much help they look as confused as I feel, “Um, Peter, I’m not sure what you want from me. I’m sitting right here, with you, in our hotel suite.” I’m so used to Peter being in control, being confident, scary and just Peter like, this is not the usual Peter.

 

“He was different when you got engaged too,” Scott points out, “He was nervous remember?”  Yeah I do remember, it was like he believed I had a choice after he’d done his best to make sure I understood I didn’t really have a choice, and then I frown because he might have been threatening to those I care about but he’s never threatened me, except for the rape, which was bad enough but that’s it, it’s always been others he’s hinted he’ll hurt, never me.

 

“I want you to stay,” Peter wiggles in closer, “Say you’ll stay with me.”

 

Well that’s an easy demand to fulfil, “I’ll stay with you,” at least for now.

 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he pulls back from me and stares up at me, “Thank you Stiles, and I’m so sorry, I blinked, just for a few seconds but I did, I stopped looking at you and I’m so sorry, it won’t happen again.”

 

And I’m back to floundering.

 

“He’s talking about Eric,” Lydia’s doing her nails and eyeing Peter like she wants to claw him.  “You could use this as leverage against him.”

 

“Or,” Allison’s hugging Scott, “You sympathise with him, he’s going to remember how you handle this, this could build more trust on his side, gain you more freedom.”

 

“It could backfire,” Chris is standing alone outside of the group, “If you don’t punish him he might think he can get away with it in the future, but then Allison’s also right, if you’re too harsh…” He leaves it hanging.

 

Peter’s watching me and I know he knows I’m talking to them.  He doesn’t say anything, he’s still holding me in place, kind of, and then Scott asks, “Doesn’t Peter think that Stiles has made mistakes before in this ‘Relationship’, so how did Peter handle it?”

 

That’s a pretty smart idea, I can make Peter face his mistake, get him back on track and back in control of himself, and make sure he doesn’t do it again, all with the added benefit of looking like I’m invested in this relationship.  I grin at Scott who gives me a thumbs up.

 

Now I just have to do this right and we can clear this up, and I have to do it in a way that I believe it myself so that Peter will hear no signs of lying from me, and we can move on.  And when the time is right I can get away from him more easily because he’ll trust me and he’ll have relaxed his grip.

 

“Peter,” I have no idea how to be diplomatic with this so I just go for it, “You’ve said I’m everything to you since you met me in Sacramento, and looking back I can see every move you’ve made has had one goal in mind; me,” He nods and waits.  “You’ve found me a nice home, a good school, a place I can make friends, a teacher for my Sparkiness.  You’ve Mated me, married me, given me an awesome honeymoon I will never forget for all the right reasons.  When the Judge and then Martin kidnapped me you came for me.  When I was hurt you took care of me and stayed by my bedside the whole time.”

 

He’s starting to relax a little so I go for the kill, “But Honey you have to know you fucked up just now, that you totally fucking blew it,” he flinches and actually drops his eyes.  “You’re right you did look away from me,” he haunches in, “You looked at what Eric offered you that I can’t, I’m not built like that Peter,” his hands on my shirt grip a little tighter, “And all I had to say was ‘Mine’ and you were back with me.”  All of it totally true as far as I’m concerned.

 

“I am yours Stiles,” it’s the smallest voice he’s ever used.

 

Edging closer to him I try and wrap him up in my arms and go for broke, my Pack can read my mind they know what I’m about to do and they try to stop me, “Peter, I may have mislead you slightly, it’s more of a lie by omission than an outright lie, but when I left Beacon Hills I wasn’t a virgin anymore.”  Peter’s head has tilted on my chest and he’s listening as most of my Pack shout my name and plead with me not to do this, all except Derek who’s watching me intently.  “I thought I was in a relationship with a guy, I thought he cared about me, I loved him and I’d have done anything for him, except I was just a horny Omega to him and he,” oh god I’m really going to do this, “He was my Alpha.”

 

Tensing in my arms Peter starts to growl so I hurry on, “We had sex, a lot, it was fun, I had the most amazing orgasms ever, I happily bottomed and I thought he loved me as much as I loved him.  Only no matter what I did it was never enough for him or anyone else in the Pack, he forbade me to help in battles because I fucked up and nearly got him and Scott killed.  When I got sick, really sick with a chest thing, he sent me away to Scott’s, and then this female Alpha barged in and wanted an alliance, she must be the other Alpha Mr Williams was talking about.  I was worth so little to Derek that he replaced me in a heartbeat.  He used me.”  I understand why he used me now, Peter’s drawn to me, all the werewolves are drawn to me because I’m a Spark and I mimic their wolfiness, doesn’t make it hurt any less though, and it’s a serious consideration for if I leave Peter, I’ll have to have a foolproof plan to keep all the werewolves away from me, I’ll have to live in a circle of mountain ash or something.

 

The growling has stopped and I take a few deep breaths, Peter will be processing this and the scents I’m giving off too, “Mom left me because she died.  Dad left me because I’m this giant screw up and I made his life hell.  Scott left me because of Allison and Isaac. Lydia never saw me and never wanted me. Melissa only accepted me because I was Scott’s only friend for years and now I’m not his friend anymore.

 

“They all left me Peter,” I don’t have to fake my voice breaking, “I wasn’t enough for them,” this weird crooning noise comes from Peter and his hands aren’t gripping my shirt anymore, they’re rubbing soothing circles on my back and he’s holding me back.  “And all the time Eric was talking to you, or more like trying to flirt in a weird serial killer way with you, I never once thought you’d leave me. It never occurred to me that you’d leave me, or that you’d cheat on me, you might think about it, you might like the thought of what Eric offered you, but ultimately you’d pick me.”  I don’t point out that the only reason he’d do that is be because he’s crazy and has a very unhealthy obsession with me.

 

“Really?” Peter’s voice is still so soft and uncertain.

 

“Really,” I confirm and then sit there for a bit longer until he pulls back very slowly from me, I let him go and he sits back on his heels to stare up at me thoughtfully.

 

He hasn’t closed his face off, he’s studying me, I have no idea how he’s going to take the news I was messing around with Derek but then he nods and smiles, “Even as I was tempted to step away from you, from us, you really honestly trusted me to stay. I was listening to your heartbeat just now, it was steady the whole time,” he sounds a bit awed.

 

“Yeah, well it’s the truth,” and I think I’m going to get away with this and I might have just scored some serious points with Peter on the trust front.

 

“I’m still so sorry Stiles,” the smile fades from his face, “I failed you, I failed us, I won’t do that again, I promise.”


	42. Chapter 42

“Okay,” I accept his promise and nod at him.  He has to be putting a creak in his neck so I scoot sideways a bit and pat the couch cushion, he moves in a blur to sit next to me.

 

Pleased that I seemed to have handled him so well and averted any catastrophes, all while stopping Peter and Eric teaming up in a match made from hell, I wait for him to say something.  He’s doing his creepy staring at me thing and I don’t think he’s blinked since he started.

 

“Um,” I blink a few times, “So what do you want to do now?” I ask him, we didn’t finish our food because of Eric and we’ve missed out on our movie too.

 

“Spend the rest of my life with you,” is all Peter says and I have a sinking feeling in my stomach that he’s going to go back to his over the top behaviour again.

 

“Awesome,” I mutter as I stare back at him.

 

“I could rub your feet for you,” he volunteers and I love my feet being rubbed so I nod and we wander up to our bedroom.

 

Flopping face first onto the bed I wiggle my feet and hands ring one of my ankles to pull off a sock before those magical fingers of his rub my foot and I groan at how good at this he is.  “You really enjoy this,” Peter says, “Your scent changes you smell happy and relaxed.”

 

“Peter,” I grunt as he finds a particular sweet spot that turns me boneless, “If you ever lose the business, we’ll be selling your magic fingers because you and massage is a magical combination,” stretching out I add, “Dude we’d make a fortune.”

 

My other sock comes off and the bed dips, he must be sitting on the bed and then my feet end up in his lap.  “Hmm, I am good at this aren’t I?” He’s so fucking vain about everything.

 

“Yes Honey, you are,” I agree because he has my feet in his hands and it’s so good.

 

He works on my feet in silence and I normally have trouble being still for long but this is so soothing and my brain stops whirling a millions times a second and slows down as I sink into a very nice meditative state, I really wish I could do this more often.  Closing my eyes I let part of me drift as the other part of me cycles through my shields and I construct visions of colours and textures in my head.

 

I’m so relaxed right now.

 

“Is that good?” Peter asks softly.

 

“Perfect,” I drag the word out, “Just perfect.”

 

“Good, you know I only want to make you happy,” his fingers continue to stroke my feet and I sink down further.  “You’re everything to me Stiles, everything, I’d do anything to keep you.”

 

“S’Cool, I’m good,” I tell him, I don’t need anything right now apart from him to keep doing that to my feet, god that is so amazing.

 

“Hmm, you smell so happy right now, you smell relaxed,” he says and I am happy, I am relaxed.  “I’ve made you happy.”

 

“Uh-huh, happy,” I mumble because he’s right foot rubs make me happy, and his foot rubs are out of this world.

 

“Did Derek ever make you smell like this?” It’s said so casually it slips by me for a bit and then my eyes snap open and I tense spoiling the whole foot rub thing he’s been doing.  Damn it I knew this had the potential to back fire on me and I ignore Scott’s comments about telling me so drifting in from the other room.

 

Sighing I roll over and pull my feet out of his lap, then I sit up cross-legged and stare at Peter who’s all fake calm and happy.  “Yes,” I might as well tell him the truth, “When I thought I was Derek’s boyfriend I was happy, I cooked him meals, kept house for him and the Betas, I did his laundry,” Peter’s eyes are changing to red.  “I bottomed during the sexy times, I let him fuck me and begged him to hit my prostate, I loved that he was all vigorous and I was so horny and hormonal that I had the best orgasms of my life. Afterwards we’d shower because sex is messy and then we’d go our separate ways.  At night I slept in a separate bed to him.  In town I had to pretend we weren’t together and since no one else liked the films I did I went to the movies alone, I did a lot of things on my own because everyone was too busy to spend any time with me when I had any free time,” And I can feel myself start to get angry.

 

“At school I hung out with the Pack, at home I cleaned and worked and tried to do my homework and research the shit out of things so we’d all be safe while everyone else did training or goofed off,” I’m getting really angry now.  God I was so pathetic.  “I’d have done anything to have him pay me more attention than us just sloping off and then letting him fuck me before he’d go back to pretending I didn’t exist.”

 

Oh god, Peter’s forced me into a relationship, the guy has ignored my wishes and forced me to have sex with him, yet he’s treated me with more respect in every other aspect of my life than Derek did, he’s shown me more positive attention, affection, and care than anyone I’m not related to ever has.

 

How screwed up is my life that Peter of all people is a better partner to me than Derek was? I fling myself backwards and cover my eyes with one of my arms.

 

“I was so in love with him I’d have let him do whatever he wanted, I wanted to please him so badly I’d have gone along with anything, but we only ever had sex in one position, no foreplay, just prep and go,” and that could last bit could be a marketing campaign, I should write that one down.  “I finally get those stupid love songs, I finally get the heartbreak songs, and I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t because he was never ever in love with me.  I was a convenient little Omega, nothing more.”

 

Groaning with the full knowledge of hindsight I cringe at how I acted back then, I must have stunk of lust, I threw myself at him, and I didn’t know what a Spark could do, I sort of feel sorry for Derek, he didn’t stand much of a chance, but I’m also beginning to get angry at him, at me, at my so called ex-Pack too.

 

Moving my arm away I lean up on my elbows to stare at Peter who’s watching me, studying me, “You were my first kiss, the first person to take me on a date, to tell me I looked good.  The first person I’m not related to who told me they care about me, that I matter to them, that I’m special just because I’m me.”

 

Tilting his head he says, “You’re telling the truth,” and now he looks incredulous, “How are you telling the truth?”

 

“Because it is the truth,” I roll my eyes at him and collapse back on the bed to stare at the ceiling feeling depressed and angry and stupid and oh so very fucking young and naive.

 

The bed moves and Peter lays down next to me, “How could Derek not love you?” He sounds annoyed, “I know he’s an idiot but how could he treat you like that?” An arm creeps over my stomach and Peter gets closer so he can lay his head on my shoulder, “He shouldn’t have treated you in such a crass manner, you may not be into romance but he should have respected you more.”

 

“Yeah well I find it totally fucked up that you’re a way better boyfriend than he was.  You’re crazy and you’ve admitted you have mental health problems, he should know better,” I gripe and while I still love Derek, and to be honest I probably always will, I think I’ve reached some kind of big marker in my life. I’m not sure what it means but I let something go.

 

A kiss is pressed to my shoulder, “I’m sorry I upset you by bringing the subject up, I knew the Derek from before the fire and he had a girlfriend then,” that’s news to me.  “He was head over heels for her, and he was a good boyfriend to her, he cared for her, he stood up to his then friends and told them off if they even looked at her wrong. He would listen to her play the cello for hours, he carried her things, he spent every waking moment he could with her, they were that overly cute picture of teenage love.”

 

He goes quiet, “And?” I prompt.

 

“The blindness of youth clouded eyes they shouldn’t, the short story is that the Bite didn’t take, she was dying a truly horrible, painful, lingering death and begged Derek to just make it stop,” oh my god, “There was no way for him to siphon off enough pain and so Derek gave her a very fast merciful death, she died in his arms and his eyes turned ice blue.”

 

Oh my god.

 

“I thought his first was Kate?” I blurt out and that story was nothing I expected it to be.

 

“Oh she was, a grief stricken teen, one who killed his own girlfriend to save her from days of all consuming pain was the perfect target for Kate.  He fell right into her hands,” he puts his leg over mine and gets even closer.  “Laying on that hospital bed I wanted him dead, I wanted him to hurt and burn and bleed.  I think letting him live is the worst punishment I can do to him, he lives knowing that Paige died in his arms, that Kate used him to kill his family, he might not have been at fault either time but he tortures himself far worse than anyone else ever could.” 

 

The arm around me tightens, “Perhaps Derek did not use you as much as you think he did, from the interactions I had with him he’d walled himself off from that kind of love, it’ll take him years to recover from Paige’s death and the loss he felt, and then that’s all twisted up in what Kate did to him too.”

 

Turning that over I ask, “Wait? You’re hinting that Derek might have cared for me?  But due to the shitty life he’s had he’s too screwed up to do anything normal with it?”  And I’m remembering all the times Derek’s pushed people away or got grumpy and I’ve always thought he got grumpy because he couldn’t handle how he felt at the time.

 

“Perhaps, because I can’t wrap my head around my nephew deliberately and knowingly using you, I can imagine him messing up with you, not talking to you, panicking if he had feelings for you,” I get another kiss on my shoulder, “But not using you.”

 

“Huh,” and that changes a lot of my interactions with Derek, it doesn’t stop the hurt but it helps a bit.  I move to press a kiss to Peter’s forehead, “Thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome, and while I’m glad you smell less wounded, I’d like to point out that I will not share you, you are mine now, I am yours, and I’ll shred anyone that tries to take you away from me,” he’s so calm when he says it and I grin up at the ceiling, he’s pretty much back to normal.

 

“Yes Honey-Boo,” I move my hand so it covers his arm on my stomach and I pat it gently, “Wanna go on a date with me and watch a movie together in the living room?”

 

“Why Darling, that sounds amazing, I’d love to watch a movie with you, you pick one to watch and I’ll get us some popcorn.”


	43. Chapter 43

Our little heart to heart has actually worked wonders for our relationship these past four days.  Peter is just as attentive as ever, but he’s tempering it where he can, if we go somewhere that’s considered safe, like anywhere with the kids he lets me out of his sight, he might check up on me but that’s it.  Anywhere my safety might not be guaranteed he sticks to me like glue, it’s still annoying but I can see the difference, he’s not stalking me anymore he’s just guarding me from things that might hurt me.

 

I may still have to hand in my man card but I’ll be alive to do it.

 

When I was skypeing Aaron the other evening, Peter was on the phone to Vincent and as we were being loud Peter left the room to talk business, he didn’t hang around to eavesdrop.  I apologised to him afterwards and he kissed my cheek telling me it was fine, I smelt happy and he likes making me happy.

 

We’ve also discussed me and therapy.  As in Peter is looking for a therapist for me when we get back to Wolf Creek, there’s so much I’ll have to hide from them so we’ll have to work on a cover story but he thinks that being able to talk about Derek, about my dad, my friends, and what happened in Sacramento will be good for me.  We both agree I’m not dealing with it and I’m pushing it away and that’s going to come back and haunt me, but at the same time am I ready to deal with it?  Peter said I’m stronger than I look and maybe facing down little chunks of it at a time will be better for me. If I don’t do well with therapy, if I hate it, I can leave at any time.

 

We don’t discuss how he forced me to be in this relationship, we don’t talk about the rape, we don’t talk about him being controlling and dominating, and all the other things in our relationship like me planning to leave him one day.

 

Instead we make plans together for our life and I’m sprawled on the sofa with my head resting on his leg as he runs his fingers through my hair.  Mr Williams is coming to see us, he has some good news about the werewolf stuff going on near our home and some news about my family.

 

As usual he’s prompt and on time, he’s carrying a plain package wrapped in brown paper that was delivered to Peter earlier.  Peter was too busy to go down to reception to get it, and by busy I mean flicking through his wardrobe and messing around with his clothes, he keeps ‘borrowing’ some of my clothes so I’m guessing this is a new staple of our relationship as he says it mixes our scents in.

 

Putting the package on the kitchen table Mr Williams comes and sits in an armchair, “Alpha Stiles, you’re looking much better, you’re filling out again, putting back the weight that you lost.”

 

I sit up and nod at him, “Thanks Mr Williams, Peter’s taking good care of me, I’m eating well, and my exercise regime is kinda cool,” I’m so much more flexible than I was, the swimming is working on my stamina and I can run for miles on the treadmill now.

 

“Good,” outwardly Mr Williams smiles, inwardly he just looks relieved and it’s weird to see two different faces and their expressions don’t always match.  “Then I have good news all round for you.  We’re finally within a mile of Klaus, he’s boxed in and his lover has run out of bodies so her power is fading away.  You’ll be able to go home soon.”

 

“That is good news,” Peter smiles at me, “You can go back to school,” and I really shouldn’t be excited by that but I am, “You can see your friends, play Xbox with Aaron, walk in the woods, and maybe you’d like to have some of your friends over after school too.”

 

“Awesome,” I fidget in place to stop myself doing a victory dance and this is amazing news.

 

“And,” Mr Williams butts in, “The last of the paperwork will be completed today, not only will Scott’s biological father be banned from ever having contact with Scott, but any objections he had about the adoption will be overruled and you’ll soon have the boy as your legal brother.”

 

“Yay!” I fist punch the air, “Finally.”

 

“Also you’ll be pleased to know that a certain Agent McCall is currently under review and his spot in the Bureau is no longer secure,” The ghoul is laughing inside and I shake my head before I join in with him, “The FBI take a very dim view of those who represent them breaking the law like he did,” though really I’m sure it’s more who got caught breaking the law like that.

 

“Good, he was a shitty investigator anyway,” I’m pleased for Scott, he’s gotten rid of his dad for good, and he’s gotten more family, way more family than he realised even existed.

 

“It would appear your adventures in New York are drawing to a close,” Our lawyer sits back and lets the body he’s using sprawl in that weird way only ghouls can do.

 

“Yeah,” I shrug and press into Peter’s side, “It was fun to start with, our honeymoon was awesome, but I could have done without the kidnapping and all that crap.”

 

“But you uncovered Klaus’ little plot,” And no one’s told me the plot yet, I ask and Mr Williams elaborates, “He sent out a large number of moles like Martin, they were to settle in, then seed dissent and if there was a chance to cause a fight between any of the Clans here in New York or in any of the Packs surrounding New York, they were to take it.”

 

“So,” Peter muses, “Klaus was seeking to disrupt the area? Make everyone look away and then he’d do what? Expand his territory? No one trusts him anyway not after the way he defeated Blue and stole the power of an Alpha from him.  If he’d set one foot out of his territory the other Alphas would have ganged up and slaughtered him.”

 

Blue?  As in Blue the antiques hunter that calls Peter now and again with things he’s found.  I vaguely remember being told he’s part of Marianne’s Pack.

 

“Very true, but Klaus had at least one spy in most of the Clans and Packs, they’ve all been found and dealt with, and if they could sow distrust or misinformation among the werewolves, they could have slowed the process down,” And that doesn’t sound good.

 

“Hmm,” sitting back Peter’s hand settles on my thigh, “I see your point, ultimately it would have failed but it would have destroyed the region in the process and many would have perished along the way,” he smirks, “I assume the other Alphas are aware of the plan my Stiles stumbled across and foiled in his own special way?”

 

That’s both complimentary and somewhat insulting at the same time but I keep my mouth shut as Mr Williams confirms the Alphas are grateful to Peter for all he’s done and reading between the lines they seem to think the sun shines out of my ass.  He also calls Peter the Twice Fallen King and I really want to know that this is now.

 

Finishing up the meeting, Peter does have some actual business to conclude, and most of it is that freaking Florida deal, I still think he should cut and run, he’s finally agreed and we are going to lose a big chunk of money over this, but better money than our lives.  Property laws can be annoying, and we have no buyer for the worthless land, Peter is attempting to sell it to the county, it seems the hunters there are still blocking other things and it’s all getting out of hand.  Mr Williams is going to manage this as much as he can, but they also have a property guru who’ll be spearheading the whole thing.

 

He leaves a little after our normal lunch time and my stomach is rumbling at me, Peter heads straight for the kitchen and he’s going to whip up some grilled cheese sandwiches for us.

 

Spotting the package on the side I eye it up.  It’s just a small plain brown package, Peter’s name and address is a printed one on a label and there’s a logo for a courier on another label.  “So who do you think it’s from?” I prod the parcel.

 

“I’ve no idea I can’t smell anyone in particular on it,” Peter’s concentrating on what he’s doing, “Open it if you want to, though your lunch will be ready soon.”

 

“Awesome, I’m hungry,” My stomach agrees with me and Peter laughs before turning back to his task.  Ripping at the brown paper I find a plain brown box, it doesn’t take me long to open the top of it and I peer inside, there’s a folded piece of red paper inside with Peter’s name on it in big bold black lettering.

 

Fishing the paper out, I can’t see what else is inside because whatever it is has been wrapped in red paper, it’s like one those Matryoshka dolls, the Russian nesting ones, where there’s always one more inside the one before.  Shrugging I open up the folded paper and read, ‘Dearest Peter, Please take these gifts as a small token of my affections for you, I dream of you nightly and when I prepared the main gift I thought only of you, the rush was indescribable, I cannot wait to do this with you in person. Yours forever, Eric.’

 

Aw crap.

 

“Peter!” I carefully put the paper down and memorise where my fingers were so they can dust for prints.  “Peter we have a problem.”


	44. Chapter 44

Frustratingly the werewolf problem that was keeping us in New York is now dealt with.  Klaus and Evangeline the blood user are both dead, cut in half, burnt to ashes, and a few other things to make sure they stay dead.

 

Now we’re stuck in New York because of Peter’s little stalker situation.

 

If I wasn’t staring at a photo of me and Peter that Eric’s added his own little touches to, I’d find this somewhat amusing in places.  Instead it’s creepy to see how he’s cut out a photo of his own head and stuck it on my face so it looks like a five year old did creative stuff and Peter’s looking at Eric like he’s in love with him.

 

Eric also writes poetry, really bad poetry, about killing people and raping them.  Oh and he’s been sending Peter photos of some kills he’s done.  It turns out that Eric, not his real name, wasn’t a serial killer to be, he’s an actual serial killer and a serial rapist.

 

Awesome.

 

At the moment the living room in our hotel suite is now a command hub, and the spare bedroom has at least one werewolf sleeping in there at any one time so they’ll be fresh for continuous guard duty.  Mr Williams has taken up permanent residence in our living room and ghouls don’t need to eat, sleep or even breathe, which can freak you out if he sits really still, and it was a manly yelp not a scream I did no matter what the others say.

 

The first set of gifts Eric sent Peter have been analysed by a special private lab and he sent them in one of those see through lunchboxes that have different compartments.  The top smallest one had petals from a rose. The bigger top one had a Barbie doll with her arms, legs and head pulled off the main body.  But it was the big bottom compartment was the worst, it had a female human heart in it.  The heart was swimming in blood which the lab says matches the heart’s DNA, it also has a single male’s sperm in it, courtesy of Eric, and because this is a very good lab they tested the shit out of it and found a very special drug in it. Everyone got really grim when they said it was Heat Stroke.

 

Eventually Peter told me what it was, it’s a special drug made by some hunters a few decades ago, that backfired on them big time, it’s designed to work on any supernatural creature that’s alive, which is why it has wolfsbane as an ingredient so werewolves are not immune to it.  It literally causes lust in the subject, doesn’t matter if they’re interested in you or not, they’ll burn with lustful heat for you and it’s the perfect date rape drug, no modern lab tests for it so victims are unable to prove why they acted so out of character.

 

It’s also highly illegal and carries a death sentence if you’re caught using it.  It’s one of the few things hunters and the supernatural agree on.

 

How the hell Eric got his hands on it is now a matter of huge debate.

 

Sitting at our dining room table I can see the boards detailing the info so far and while Eric is human he’s not as young as he looks, damn him, he’s a bit older than me, and his name is Joshua Smith.  Joshua is supposed to be dead, he was pronounced dead four years ago, victim of an unknown arson attack that destroyed his house, and killed him. His family mourned him and moved away from the area.  With no red tape to get in their way, the researchers at Mr Williams’ firm have dug deep to find a missing teenager whose stats match close to Joshua’s and who vanished two days before the fire.  They can’t prove it but it seems the most likely set of events were Joshua killing the boy, Eric Hasten, and using his body to fake his own death.

 

It helps that Joshua is now Eric Smith, the first name being a tie in to the first murder we can tentatively link him to.  Oh and by that point in his life Joshua was a Peeping Tom, who had escalated up to groping women and teenage girls, the number of them is depressingly high, and the true number probably higher still.  There were also five alleged sexual assaults and the victims were too scared to say who their attacker was, but they all had a big fucking party the day after Joshua ‘died’.

 

We also can’t tie him to the large number of missing female teens at that time though, only to the boy Eric Hasten.

 

Joshua smartened up after that, he’s only pinged on the system because his DNA has come up on twelve separate alleged rape cases, all scattered across different jurisdictions, but the DNA was ruled unusable because Joshua was dead and their attacker had brown hair not blonde.  It’s sloppy police work, they should have linked this by now, the Feds should be hunting for him.  And that was in the first year after his ‘death’, he must have switched to using the Heat Stroke drug or killing all his victims because the rape reports just stop.  From all the research done on people like Joshua he wouldn’t have stopped, he can’t stop, he’s still raping and probably killing, we just can’t find the trail, we can’t find anything just yet, including Joshua.

 

In fact Joshua/Eric has vanished off the grid.

 

The address and social security number he used at the video store leads to a dead end.  There is no residency in the New York area used by any combination of his names that has panned out, all of them are other people.  Traces run on the stationary he uses have gone nowhere.  Everything else is generic enough that we can’t catch him.

 

Staring at the boards I frown because there’s a huge glaring area that’s missing.  Nudging Peter’s knee with mine I murmur, “Something in our intel is wrong.”

 

“Really?” Peter’s eyes sweep over the boards, “What do you see that we don’t?”

 

“A lack of any obvious triggering point, of any of the normal signs that lead up to Joshua being what he is.  He has a normal childhood, there are no signs of trauma of any kind, he gives no signs in school of any mental illnesses, he doesn’t do drink or drugs, and then bam overnight he starts peeping and he escalates shockingly fast.  He’s sent you photos that made the analyst go pale, and yes I’m happy not to look at the photos. You were impressed at what he’s done in those things so it has to be bad. They’re all of women and I can’t see where his hatred of women came from, there should be something, anything, no matter how small.  He can’t go from happy adjusted kid to what he is now without…” I wave my hands trying to convey the missing puzzle piece.

 

Tilting his head Peter thinks it over, “You have a valid point Stiles, there are more psychopaths in the world than people admit to, but most of them will never go through the metamorphosis to serial killer, they live very law abiding lives.  Why would Joshua Smith begin the journey to serial killer?  Where are the marker points in his life?”

 

“Exactly,” and my Pack are drifting around the boards looking at the time line, they hover down one end, and one by one they are staring at one point in time.  Getting up I hurry over to the board and find the spot they are staring at.  Joshua would have been about four years old.  “Here, there’s something here we aren’t seeing.”

 

The head analyst, Cliff, stares at me incredulously but Mr Williams comes over, “Very well, we’ll dig some more Alpha Stiles, perhaps your hunch can break this for us.”

 

After that it’s just the clack of typing and the analysts making the odd phone call and getting access to more data.  Bored I stare out of the window until Peter taps me on the shoulder and we slope off upstairs.  They’ve left us our office and the bedroom, those are off limits and Peter guards them jealously.

 

We lay down on the bed and Peter gets me to cuddle into him, “I remembered you wanted to have date nights,” he says and that’s a random conversation topic, “What date nights would you be interested in Stiles?  What shall we do when we’re home again?”

 

“Seriously?” I ask him and he nods, “Um, okay,” I roll and wiggle closer letting my head rest on his chest, “I’ve always wanted to go bowling.”

 

“Bowling?” He doesn’t sound impressed.

 

“Yeah, bowling with my Honey.  And dinner dates.  I want to go to county fairs and win cheap stuffed animals for you.  And now we live by a lake I want to go boating, and swimming, and fishing.  I want to run in the woods.  Go on bike rides, stand in the rain and kiss, give you a piggy back ride, dance for hours. I want to do everything,” I want to do it all.

 

“We can do that,” Peter just accepts that I want to date him and he’s trying to make it happen.  I can’t believe we’ve gotten this far in our relationship, I really can’t.

 

“Cool, I can’t wait to see you in a bowling alley,” He’s going to turn his nose up at the bowling shoes.

 

“Oh Stiles,” he’s amused, “Just wait and see, I was captain of my basketball team and I may have won several bowling trophies too.”

 

“Bring it,” I laughingly challenge him.

 

“I intend to,” he smirks at me, “Winner gets a prize,” and he ups the ante.

 

“Yeah, what’s the prize?” I willingly follow the bread crumb trail he leaves me.

 

“Winner picks the next date idea, and I’m thinking dinner, all dressed up in our best finery, I’ll go through our wardrobes and find matching things to wear,” and yeah he’d totally do that.

 

Teasing him I get to all fours and stare down at him as I straddle his body, “Peter, really? That’s all you’re going to do on our date? I thought you’d make me go clothes shopping for hours,” I squeak as he flips me gently off of him and then he’s over me.

 

“Really Stiles?  What a wonderful idea.  Why didn’t I think of that?  We could spend hours in the shops as I try everything on,” he’s grinning at me and I groan dramatically, “And then we could sit in a coffee shop and talk about the clothes and then go back and try them on again.”

 

“No!” I fake shudder, “No the horror Peter, the horror,” I tackle him and we mock wrestle on the bed for a bit, neither of us is trying that hard, neither of us uses our full strength and then I’m laying on top of him laughing as his chest shakes with his laughter.


	45. Chapter 45

Cliff, the head analysis, has busted his balls researching the time point I found. Mostly to show there’s nothing there because he doesn’t like me. I haven’t done anything to him and he doesn’t like me, normally people have to spend time with him to dislike me.

 

He’s found something out about Joshua to his utter annoyance.

 

And the something is apparently huge so we’re all gathered to hear his news.

 

This could be the point that took Joshua and started him down his path of murder and rape.  It wasn’t until Cliff dug out the date of Joshua’s brother’s birthday that he found anything.  Because that date matches the one I pointed to.  And then Cliff dug some more and I tried to hover around him to learn any tricks of research he could teach me but he shooed me off and he really doesn’t like me.

 

Presenting his findings he has photos of the family, and something is off, I can’t put my finger on it but then Peter says, “They don’t match, their hair colours and eye colours are all wrong, even their facial structures, their skin tones,” and he’s right they don’t.  With the racial mixing that’s been going on things can get mixed and matched but this is too radical.  Joshua’s mom is seriously pale with bright red hair, green eyes, and all the hallmarks of a red head.  Joshua’s father is white with blonde hair and blue eyes.  The kids range from pale skin to dusky, they have hair colours from black and through the whole range to platinum blonde, and their eyes are brown and again have every colour in there though to blue and green.  Yes some genes can go dormant and then you get a surprise mix appear, but for every single child to be different?  That would freak a genealogist out, plus two of the kids have Asian casts to their faces, and there’s nothing in their family trees to suggest Asian anything.

 

“Correct,” Cliff flicks a few more slides up, “However, there are missing persons reports about ten months to a year before the birth of each child and in each group there is a young woman who has a few of the physical traits of the new born member of the Smith family.  Interestingly enough we can see that Mrs Smith was Irish and came from a very strict upbringing, she also had a ‘holiday’ at a special Catholic school, which is code for a pregnancy in a girl out of wedlock, she’d just turned fifteen at the time.  We’ve had new documents scanned and sent to us from Ireland, it appears something went wrong with the pregnancy and the whole scandal was covered up because she said it was a very prominent man, a very married man, with links to some very conservative areas of the church.”

 

I’m not sure what that means but Peter narrows his eyes, “Ah I’ve heard stories on the news,” and I think I know what they’re hinting at.

 

“Yes, that would be exactly what happened,” Cliff sighs, “Things are better there from all accounts but at this time Mary didn’t stand much of a chance, her family was poor and jumped at the chance offered to Mary.  When Mary escaped at seventeen she was sterile as the surgeons had to remove her uterus to save her life, and she drifted for a short time until she managed to get a visa for America,” and I can fill in several blanks that stand out, I feel sorry for this woman.  “Within hours of reaching New York she had already met Samuel Smith, a man she would marry and according to records bear children for.”

 

We can all see the problem with that, if Mary was sterile then who surrogated for them?  Or did they just steal the kids?  Though Cliff said women vanished ten months to a year before the miraculous birth.

 

“Samuel was kidnapping the women and baking his buns in their ovens?” Is a crude way to put it but I don’t want to say the other words; words like rape.

 

Grimacing at my phrasing Cliff goes back to his board, “That is the general idea Alpha Stiles,” see he really doesn’t like me.  “It would explain where and how Joshua could have been compromised growing up, his rage at women, and the fact that not one body of the suspected mothers has ever been found could suggest he’s using the same deposal method for his victims.

 

“Since they moved from the area Joshua’s family has splintered fairly rapidly, it could have been explained away with the sudden traumatic loss of a family member, but in light of what we’ve found,” There are more slides and they appear to be death certificates, “All of Joshua’s sisters are dead by suicide, his father is dead via murder and while Joshua’s mom is the main suspect she has an iron clad alibi, oh and three of his brothers are in prison or juvie for minor infractions with the forth one in an institution.”

 

That’s not good, some of those kids might have made it, they still might if they can get the right kind of help and they actually take it and do something.  If not they’ll slide down the slope and be just another statistic.

 

“But the good news is that if we search for Mary’s maiden name, Walsh, we find Eric Walsh,” and Cliff just drops that in like it’s nothing.  “We’ve scouted several names and addresses and we hit pay dirt, we’ve found him, we’re following him and ten minutes ago we found out how he’s getting the drug.”

 

And the bastard is just standing there waiting for us to take this in, “Good work Cliff,” Mr Williams says, the man positively beams at the ghoul for the praise, “Please continue.”

 

“Yes sir, but you’re not going to like this,” a new picture flicks up and Mr Williams goes absolutely still, it’s of Joshua and he’s taking a bottle filled with blue liquid from a blond man, it’s a side profile of him and he’s classically handsome like Jackson is, “This is Luke De’Argent, son of Abigail De’Argent, Matriarch of the hunters in New York.  She’s known for her intense dislike of the supernatural and has rarely if ever reined in her trigger happy son.”

 

Holy mother of god, why are hunters nearly always caught up in these things?  Why can’t they actually grow a pair and stop being asses?  At least Chris Argent can admit that not all things that go bump in the night want to rip out throats and cause human deaths.

 

“Well that complicates things,” Mr Williams gets his phone out, “Is there anything else we need to know?”

 

“No sir, those are the highlights, we’re putting it into a report now, we have full documental back up, and we have footage of Luke dealing the drug to Eric.  We’re still following Luke and Eric since they parted and we’re being careful to not be spotted but Luke is a hunter,” Cliff wrings his hands, “Sir, I’m sorry I didn’t catch this sooner.”

 

“You found it,” the ghoul waves the apology away, “Alpha Stiles may have narrowed down the spot you needed to search in but you still found it Cliff, well done to you and your team.  Now it’s up to us to deal with the hunters and get Luke off the streets as we step in to stop Eric, or Joshua, from getting anywhere near Alphas Peter or Stiles,” Standing up he adds, “If you’ll excuse me I have a phone call I really don’t want to make, and Cliff please get that report out and circulated.”

 

Everyone is suddenly really busy being occupied leaving just Peter and me there to stare at the wall.  Peter rises to the occasion and leads me to the kitchen so he can occupy me with making cookies.  His cooking skills are coming in handy and everyone loves his chocolate chip cookies, he also takes requests if he feels like it.

 

I’m in charge of a few of the simpler tasks, plus I get the mixing bowl at the end.  Peter is efficient and he occasionally steals kisses from me as he bakes up a batch of cookies.  We shift over to making pies for our dessert and soon the suite is filled with the scent of Peter’s baking.

 

Mr Williams makes several calls and looks grim inside where no one but me can see him.  Incidentally we have a new group of guards turn up three hours later, they’re human and they move like predators, they also refuse to eat Peter’s cookies, he’s not upset but I’m ansty for some reason.

 

Restless I pace around the suite for the evening, Peter does his best to amuse me but I can’t seem to settle, I can guess at the increased security, the human security, these guys aren’t armatures, they’ll be trained in things the werewolves simply aren’t, and the only thing that’s changed is the addition of the hunters.  Hunters that know how to tackle werewolves, who are trained specifically to fight the supernatural, not humans trained in battle.

 

Anxious and worried I let Peter get us ready for bed but when his hands reach to strip me of my trunks I pull away, “No, just no Peter, not tonight, not for either of us, please.”

 

“Stiles,” He’s watching me and sniffing the air, “Would it make you feel safer if we wore something to bed?”

 

“Yes, yes it would,” I nod jerkily and he lets me wear a pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt, while he wears the same of mine.  “Thank you, you know what I’m like when I get anxious.”

 

“It’s fine Stiles,” he tucks me into bed next to him and spoons me, “They will sort this soon and we can go home, no more worries about Alphas or humans, just us and the rest of our lives together.”

 

That doesn’t sound so bad right now.


	46. Chapter 46

I’m dreaming.

 

I know I’m dreaming.

 

Because I’m sitting cross-legged in the dark and above me I can hear the land groaning at the weight laid upon it.

 

Beneath me is an oak tree branch, it’s wide with smaller twigs sticking out of it dotted with leaves, and it glows green and brown in the darkness.  In front of me are some more branches all evenly spaced out and parallel to each other.  Behind me the same except the glowing branches keep going off into the dark.

 

What little air in here is damp and difficult to breathe, a salty tang threaded through it, and the rumble of water as it smashes into the land not far away vibrates in my chest, though it’s rhythmical and almost musical in its percussion.

 

Unable to move from where I’m sitting I sit alone in the dark.  I try calling out for Peter but my voice echoes in the darkness and I choke on the air every now and again.

 

Time passes as I struggle to move from my spot, but I’m well and truly stuck, I’m anchored in place by something on my wrists. A sense of fear and foreboding creeps up on me.

 

I’m no longer alone in the dark.

 

A tiny flicker of yellow twists into view and I stare in terror as Brad appears.  He smiles at me and I know he’s going to hurt me, he’s going to make me wish I was dead.  My struggles to get away amuse him and he laughs at me, I know that laugh, that laugh is burned into my brain because that’s the one that scares me the most, the one that means he’s going to take his time and draw it out for as long as he possibly can.

 

On my wrist the mating Mark flares and Brad stops laughing.  I really hope this means I’m about to be saved by Peter, as emasculating as it is he can take Brad in a fight, Alpha trumps Omega.  And then Peter can get me out of here and I can have a nice dream.

 

In the distance a twisted red light flickers into view and Peter appears in his Alpha form, he roars at Brad and rushes him.  Brad stands his ground and he throws something at Peter, something that smashes against Peter’s body, and suddenly it’s not dark here anymore because Peter’s on fire.

 

After we killed Peter outside the Hale house I had nightmares of Peter on fire, it took weeks for them to go away, and now it’s back with an added twist of Brad.  The same sounds of crackling fire, the overwhelming smell of cooking meat.  The howls of pain from Peter and back then I used to hate and fear him, now I’m married to him and I’m confused by him, it hurts to see him in pain.

 

Screaming his name I struggle to move to get to him, to help him, but he just burns and burns and Brad laughs that scary laugh.

 

Falling to his knees Peter’s cries turn more pitiful I know it’s near the end, just like before, when Derek slashed his throat and took his life and his position as Alpha. 

 

Following Peter down to his knees Brad gathers a still burning Peter, almost lovingly, into his arms and kisses him.  For a second the fire goes out and I can see the same burned and ruined mess Peter was after we killed him.  His eyes are wide and in front of me Brad deepens the kiss.  The sound Peter makes isn’t pain filled it’s the groan he gives me when our kisses get heated, he’s enjoying this.

 

Pulling back from Peter, Brad looks over at me and grins, “He’s mine now,” and I’m no longer looking at Brad, I’m looking at Eric, or Joshua or whatever the fuck his name is, “You lose, I win, don’t worry you won’t suffer long, I’m going to revel in what we’ll do to you,” and he goes back to kissing Peter.

 

Peter kisses him back and they both erupt in flames that burn so brightly I have to close my eyes and turn away.  The heat blasts off of them and it scalds my skin.  I was already struggling to breathe and the air itself catches fire.  A wall of fire explodes from them as I scream Peter’s name.  I try to throw my arms up to uselessly protect myself, the wall rolls towards me shockingly fast and then it…

 

… My wrist throbs and someone grabs my arm to yank me sideways and I gasp in cool, dry air.  The sense of weight and pressure is gone, I’m back in our bedroom in the hotel.  Peter’s gripping my arm our Marks touching and I can still smell him burning.

 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” I jerk my arm away and frantically pull at his clothes, “You were burning, I could hear it, I could smell it,” I search for his injuries, “Peter, god, Peter, come on, come on, you have to be okay, you have to be…”

 

He’s talking but I can’t hear him from the roar in my ears, the echo of the crackle as the fire consumed him, Brad laughing, Peter’s pain filled screams.  Pawing at his t-shirt I nearly flip us off the bed trying to remove it, and then it’s partly off and I can see his chest is his normal werewolfy perfection.  There are no burns, no scars, not a bruise or scratches in sight.

 

He’s okay.

 

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” I breathe it out and like a bubble popping the noise comes rushing in and hits me.

 

People are saying my name and I can’t concentrate on them, the room starts to spin, my stomach rolls and I bolt over Peter for the bathroom, more specifically the toilet.  I make it in time to heave up my dinner, and damn it that was a good dinner.

 

Hands help me stay upright as I vomit up more of my food, and I gasp for breath between each bout.  It doesn’t last that long and then I’m pulled back into Peter’s embrace, he’s crooning softly to me, “I’m here Stiles, I’m here, you’re safe.”

 

Shuddering in his arms I let him soothe me and I gratefully take the glass of water Mr Williams offers me.  Rinsing my mouth I spit the water into the toilet and collapse back into Peter, “Thank you.  Sorry, my dream was really,” I don’t know what word to use.

 

“What did you See?” Peter murmurs into my ear, “Can you tell me what you Saw in your dream?”

 

For a few seconds I wonder why Peter wants to know what I dreamed and then I blink feeling stupid, it could have been a Vision, this could be a clue, except it was nothing like the one I had of me and Richard.  “Um, okay,” I tell him what I can remember, the main things that stuck out to me, “And then the fire came towards me and you must have yanked me out of the dream because I woke up.”

 

Rubbing at my head I wince as the growing pain reaches new levels, “I think you could be right Peter, my headache is really bad,” and I’m shivering because I’m getting colder and colder, even though Peter’s got me wrapped up nice and warm.

 

“We have the details,” Mr Williams is sitting nearby, “Rest now Alpha Stiles, we will work on interpreting your Vision of the future, thank you for the information.”

 

Snorting into Peter’s shoulder I mutter, “But it didn’t make sense.”

 

A kiss is pressed to my throbbing forehead, “Not all Visions do, in fact they often frustrate Seers because they’re so vague, afterwards they tend to make perfect sense.  Go to sleep Stiles, I’ll guard you while you rest.”

 

I’m aware that Peter’s picked me up bridal style and that we’re moving, I’m vaguely aware of the bed rushing up to meet me, of bedclothes being wrapped around us.  Of Peter pressed up against my back and spooning me the way he does.

 

“Go back to sleep Stiles, I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise,” as if I need to worry about Peter being anywhere else.

 

“’Kay,” I slur, “Just promise me you won’t kiss Brad or Eric, no exploding on me, okay?”

 

“Okay,” His arms tighten, “I promise, no kissing anyone that isn’t you,” and I slide into sleep a little smugly like I’ve beaten Eric, like I’ve won.


	47. Chapter 47

The headache stays with me when I wake up again in the morning and Peter insists that I eat before I get up.  Munching on pancakes I drizzle them in syrup and stuff them in my mouth, god I am so hungry all of a sudden.

 

Nibbling on his honey drenched toast Peter pauses now and again to listen to things outside of our bedroom, “You know that’s really annoying,” I point out between pancakes, “You can hear something and I can’t.”

 

“I did offer you the Bite once,” he says and then adds, “They’ve been pulling apart your Vision all night and they’ve had a few breakthroughs.”

 

“Really?” Because it didn’t make sense to me, it probably didn’t help that I had my head down a toilet when I woke up, the projectile vomiting tends to distract you.

 

“Yes, they’ve widened their search to all railway lines, no matter the time they were built, and whether or not they’re part of the subway,” Peter takes another bite of his toast and I don’t get it.

 

“Why railway lines?” I shove more food in my mouth too and then feel like smacking myself.  “The oak branches, they were railway sleepers,” my mouth is full so it comes out grabbled but Peter understands because he nods.  I dreamed about the wooden sleepers that run along the line of the train tracks, and they’re mostly made of oak.

 

“They’re linking the train tracks with bodies of water, both static and moving,” Peter keeps eating and I want to be done there helping even if my head is pounding.  Seeing me fidget he adds, “After breakfast we can join them, perhaps you’ll get another hunch that will speed this up.”

 

I try and bolt my food but Peter won’t let me, “I’m not letting you get a stomach ache just because you tried to rush your breakfast, and here’s your Adderall for this morning.” He puts the pills on my plate, “Now, have those and we’ll get you ready for the day.”

 

“Fine,” I swallow the pills and then twiddle my thumbs while Peter finishes off the last of his toast, he sips at his coffee and rolls his eyes at me.  “Oh come on Peter, you know I have ADHD, please can we go downstairs soon, the investigation will keep me occupied for hours.”

 

“True,” he gulps the rest of his coffee, “Go and get the shower ready, I’ll be there in a minute.”

 

“Yes,” I scramble from the bed and jog to the bathroom.  Pulling off my clothes, and it’s so weird to sleep in anything now, Peter’s little training regime has done its job very well, I now prefer his skin against mine.

 

Grabbing the towels and messing around with the water I wait for him to come back, he’s taken the trays of food back, and I hope he hurries up.  He must do because he’s soon there and pulling his own clothes off.

 

The t-shirt he borrowed from me is taken off over his head and my eyes get drawn to his emerging chest and then his shoulders.  He stretches slightly, and I can see his muscles move and ripple, damn him and his werewolf physique.  Shoving the sweatpants down he bends over and turns so I get a very nice side profile of his ass and this legs, and damn he looks so good naked.

 

Blinking I pretend I wasn’t ogling him and he doesn’t say anything either so I think I got away with it.

 

In the shower he rubs the shower gel all over me and he’s very thorough, he even does the bit between my toes.  When he gets to my dick, balls, and ass he’s careful and I’m getting so used to it I don’t flinch anymore.  After my little dream of Brad this is something I never thought I could do again, have someone touch me and not freak out, but Peter’s so methodically it’s clear he’s cleaning me, he’s taking care of me, in his own insane way, and I obediently lift my arms up one at a time so he can do my armpits.

 

“There, all done, just your hair now,” I turn around and close my eyes as his hands massage my scalp. I hum to myself as he does his self-appointed job and stand still so he can rinse me.

 

Normally I just stay out of his way as he washes himself but this time I start soaping his back up for him, he freezes at first but then relaxes, “Do you want chicken for dinner?” He asks like this is a normal conversation to have in the shower.

 

“Sure, chicken sounds good Peter, I love your cooking,” My hands don’t roam too far down his back, there are places I’m not comfortable with.

 

“Hmm, I’ll plan for feeding everyone, possibly turning it into finger food.  If they don’t want to eat with us I’ll freeze the extras,” He rinses himself and then wraps me up in a towel before grabbing another to do my hair.  “And I’m going to cut your hair today, the scissors were delivered a few days ago.”

 

“We could do it now, while my hair is still damp, then I can go do research and stuff and you can play in the kitchen,” I offer and he jumps at the chance.  He even carries a chair into the bathroom so I can sit in front of the mirror as he snips at my hair with a look of intense concentration that’s slightly scary and adorable all at once.

 

The sides are kept short, and the back is pruned down, but the top he keeps longer than I’m used to.  I shove my head under the shower and get rid of the worst of the itchy hair that’s been cut off and then I let Peter dry my hair and style it.  He runs his fingers through the top and tugs it up, it looks good, I like it, “Peter that looks awesome, thank you.”

 

“No, thank you for letting me Stiles,” he’s beaming, “At the moment the thought of anyone else touching you has my claws growing, it would have been difficult to let a barber near you.”

 

In our wardrobe he critiques all of my choices and picks something out for me, it’s warm and I don’t mind but I retaliate and pick out a t-shirt for him to wear, it’s in black and it has a low v-neck.  Peter lifts a very judgemental eyebrow at me and puts it on, I nearly choke when I realise just how low the damn thing comes to, but I’m not backing down and I make him wear it.

 

That works until I get him downstairs and one of the women researchers stares at him.  He vanishes off into the kitchen to play and I glare at her, she flushes and turns around as I get to look at the extra boards brought in while I ignore the tight, hot, sick, feeling in my stomach.

 

The entire network of railway tracks in New York are being outlined on the board.  They’re adding in the older ones that aren’t used anymore, they’re leaving nothing to chance and the bodies of water are being linked to them, the ones near sea water are top priority.  As Eric is assumed to have started killing his victims, Mr Williams’ firm is paying necromancers to wander around near the suspected sites to see if they can get a lock on anything like a graveyard, it would narrow down our search considerably but it’s not essential.

 

Now it’s a waiting game and I hate waiting.

 

Our human guards walk patrols around the suite, they communicate to each other and are so paranoid they make Derek look open, trusting, and welcoming.  They all have the same uniform on, not black, it’s this dark green, brown, blue thing.  Most of them are white a few of them aren’t, their hair is all buzz cut, they have identical expressions on their faces and two of them have badges on their shoulders.  One of them is a silver lion and it’s on the blonde guy with the scary intense blue eyes, the other is a butterfly made up of blue and purples that I’ve never seen in real life, his dark skin and lithe build does not remind me of Boyd, Boyd is cuddly compared to him, he does scare me though and I keep my distance from all of them.

 

Over the day Peter stops me from being too obnoxious and I glare at the woman, Mindy, every time she stares at him.  She’s careful to keep her eyes glued to the screen in front of her but she slips up now again.  Peter catches her once and lets his fangs show before he kisses my cheek and slips out of the room to go do some more batch cooking, I only gloat at her for about five minutes. I make a mental note that all v-necks are now to be worn in the house and never outside in public.

 

Peter is close to dishing up the main meal when we finally get the call, a necromancer has felt a large number of dead bodies, there’s no graveyard there, no natural disasters and the site on our map gets upgraded.  The others will continue to be checked until this one is confirmed as Eric’s kill zone or dismissed as a false positive.

 

It does mean I can’t eat now and I pace up and down the suite.  Peter does his best and I do eat some food.  I’m sitting in his lap being hand fed these amazing little chicken pastry things Peter made when Mr Williams takes a call and the ghoul actually smiles, “Go, secure the whole site, and the teams trailing Eric have a go signal, take him off the street the next moment you have a clear shot at him.”

 

Oh my god.

 

I clutch at Peter’s t-shirt and slightly miss so I grope part of his chest, damn it, so not letting him out of the house in one of these things.


	48. Chapter 48

The whole experience is anticlimactic, there is no big fight scene, no car chases, no chases period.  Eric is picked up off the street and bundled into a van, he’s being held in a Clan house somewhere, the guards are under strict orders to watch him like he’s the most dangerous predator ever.

 

Meanwhile the site the unknown necromancer found is being picked over and I’m not allowed anywhere near either area, I’m still on lockdown, with Peter, Mr Williams, the werewolf guards and the human security.

 

I’d feel robbed but frankly it makes a nice change to not have to go out and nearly get killed.

 

Sprawled out on the bed on my stomach I mess around and start building our wedding and honeymoon albums on the iPad so I can put them on Facebook.  I’ve used the fact I got really sick and that I’ve been convalescing as the excuse for the extended stay in New York on all my updates.

 

Peter’s sitting nearby and occasionally he rubs one of my feet.  “Stiles?”

 

“Hmm, yeah Peter?” I’ve picked the photos I like the most and there are way too many of them, maybe I should split the albums a bit, so there are a few parts to them.

 

“I’d like to talk about our sex life,” and it’s like he’s thrown a bucket of icy water over me.

 

“What about it”? I ask nervously and mentally cling to the fact he promised me no more rape, that I could say no and he’d accept that.

 

“We don’t have one,” He starts saying and my stomach knots itself up, “That is mostly my fault, had I not insisted on hurting you we’d be further along.  The use of porn was helpful for a while but I feel it is no longer appropriate because of Eric, I will not be unfaithful to you Stiles, physically or mentally.”

 

“Um…” I have no idea what to do or say and I blurt, “I’m not ready Peter, not for sex.”

 

“I didn’t think you would be,” his hand rubs my foot soothingly, “And frankly I don’t think you’ll ever really want or enjoy the type of sex we had to start with, it’s too tied up with bad things for you.  So I’ve been thinking about whether or not I would be able to let you top me,” and my mouth drops open because I think he just said I might top him.

 

“I don’t think I’d enjoy full penetration,” He carries on like he hasn’t just dropped one hell of a bombshell on me, “However, I am willing to let you take control during our make out sessions, and we can explore things we both might like.  I’ve noticed that while porn aims for full penetration, most websites that cater to helping men discover their favourite sexual practices have so many other things we could try that don’t have anything to do with penetration.”

 

Internally freaking the hell out I slowly turn over to stare at him, he’s not using any of his fake expressions, he’s calm and relaxed, he even has a sweeter smile he uses just for me.

 

“Um…” I really don’t know how to process this, this is so far out there for what I was expecting him from that I flounder.

 

“How about we leave it with you thinking about it and me not pushing?” He offers and I nod numbly at him.  “I thought perhaps you’d be interested in kissing again soon, and some very light making out, I look forward to marking up your neck again, your skin goes such interesting colours when I do that.  It’s a pity you can’t mark me, perhaps then that annoying little bitch that kept looking at me would have taken the hints you were giving her and she’d stop staring at me.”

 

He lifts up one of his hands, kisses his finger and then boops it on my big toe, “I’ll let you get back to your albums, I can’t wait to see your creation, you made such an awesome one for our road trip.”

 

And then he goes back to reading.

 

Turning over again I go back to my projects and try not to act like he just blew my mind.  I can’t help thinking about our kissing sessions and make out sessions.  I’ve been alright during them up to the point that Peter gets anything other than his arm over my body.  I really don’t like to be pinned down.

 

Now he’s said about kissing and making out again I can’t stop the idea running through my head.  Or the thoughts about how distracted by him I’ve been lately.  I was under the impression I was hiding it but clearly his nose caught me out and that might be why he had that conversation just now.

 

The only times I’ve really had control of the kissing was in Cheyenne but that was spoilt but the fact he was going to rape me, then again in the hotel that Peter used to own and now Marianne does, and yeah okay we have shares in it, and I’m going off track.  I don’t normally have control in the kissing department, I don’t know how to have control in the kissing department.  Derek wasn’t interested I was just meat to him, Brad and Oren hurt me and never would have wanted to kiss me, only Peter’s ever wanted to do the lip lock thing.

 

Going back to looking at photos I’m reminded of all the fun we had here in New York before Martin destroyed it.  Peter really did want me to have fun, to enjoy our time together, he never pushed, we had epic make outs in our honeymoon suite, we explored the city, we danced, we ate, we shopped way more than I would have liked.  I liked this thing we had then, I really liked it, I might have been forced into it, but it was good.  Peter may have been training me in all kinds of things but I think I’ve been training him too.

 

Humming to myself I carry on with my task and when Peter says that take out is here I save everything and amble downstairs to eat.  Mr Williams doesn’t eat, the werewolves nibble at a pizza slice each and go back to being bodyguards, the humans don’t eat any of it so most it is left for me and Peter, he promises to put the uneaten bits in the fridge so we can all snack if we want to.

 

Peter picks up his pizza and eats it the way you’re apparently supposed to, with his fingers, my mom would have gone nuts and insisted on forks and knives.  Each bite he takes is methodical and calculated, just like Peter, and I watch as he eat and then swallows, his neck bobs as the food goes down and I never realised how long his neck is.

 

Cramming my slice of pizza in my mouth I nearly choke on it and wave off any help as I get myself back under control.  Slurping my drink I nearly choke again as Peter drinks from his beer bottle and there’s just something that drags my eyes towards him.

 

Flushing I fidget in my seat and wonder what the hell is wrong with me.

 

After dinner we’re excusing ourselves when Mr Williams holds up a finger, “A moment Alphas, I’ve had an update, they’ve found the bodies, both Eric’s kills and what could be his father’s.  Give them a few days to run DNA on them and we’ll be good for the trial.  I hopefully don’t need to tell you that you don’t need to testify against Eric.  We’ve been sorting through his things, and his guilt in wanting to break up a Mated pair, even to the point of killing a Mate is obvious, he’ll be found guilty and executed but the Defence may politely request either of you to give evidence.”

 

“Trial?” I’m confused, “I didn’t think Martin got a trial?”  It seemed to go straight to kill the whole Clan, there couldn’t have been time for a trial.

 

“Well no there wasn’t a trial and he did confess,” Mr Williams says, “In hindsight that should have been a clue for us to make sure he was part of the Clan so that the correct Alpha paid the price of the Beta’s insanity.”

 

“Oh,” I nod and file that away.

 

“Eric is refusing to admit to anything, so we will hold a trial for him, the werewolves will listen to his heartbeat as he gives his testimony, and the science will back up the Prosecution, I have little doubt he’ll get away with this,” Mr Williams gets out his phone and taps away on it, “I’ll keep you updated as the trial continues.”

 

“And the Argents?” One of the human bodyguards ghosts up behind me.  “Will they be held accountable for their crimes?  Heat Stroke is a crime punishable by death.”

 

“All in good time,” Our lawyer smiles, “The evidence is being sent to many different people before we make a move, the Hunters have to be made aware that they are being watched and judged, otherwise they have a tendency to shoot first and bury the bodies without asking any questions,” and I’d agree with that, lots of them are that kind of hunter.

 

That settles that and I’m ushered up to our room by Peter, a Peter who seems different for some reason.  For a start my eyes keep being drawn to him and I’ve seen him lounge before, but this is making me nervous and my hands a little sweaty, I’m not sure what the hell is going on as he lays on the bed while we watch a movie on the laptop.  His hands are behind his head and one ankle is crossed over the other, he looks totally relaxed and my eyes drift a few too many times during the movie to his crossed ankles and the way the jeans cling to his legs.

 

“Really Stiles,” Lydia sounds annoyed and like she’s in the bathroom, “Your so called husband is posing provocatively for you.  He ate that way on purpose, walked that way to make you look at him and don’t get me started on the way he drank that beer,” she sighs and I flush again.  “Boys, really are you that dense?  Peter is probably going to try and seduce you.”

 

“Hey,” Scott grumps, “Don’t be mean, Stiles has never had anyone interested in him before,” and that kinds hurts even if it is accurate, “This is the first time that anyone’s done that to him,” and he’s right it is the first time. My eyes flick to Peter whose eyes are glued to the laptop and I don’t know if Lydia is right.

 

“Of course I’m right,” she grumps.

 

But if she is then I’m not the slightest bit prepared to defend myself from a seductive Peter.  Murderous, psychotic, those I can handle, but seductive? I don’t even know how that works.

 

Ignoring the whole thing I enjoy the film and then show Peter the albums I’ve been building, he acts normal as he looks through them and praises me because they are awesome.  We talk about cropping and he wants us to pick out photos for an official wedding album, he mentions that maybe we could invite the Masons over and then he can show the album to the women, his eyes gleam and I grin to myself.

 

Getting ready for bed I lag behind because he’s ready way faster than normal.  In fact he’s in bed when I wander towards it.  Dramatically, because this is Peter, he throws the covers back for me and somehow he’s laying there all naked and yep, provocative.

 

“Stiles, are you ready to come to bed?” And his voice is normal and sexy at the same time.

 

“Um… Yeah?” I think owe Lydia an apology.

 

“Yes, you do,” she agrees.

 

Sliding into bed I turn my back on Peter and the covers are flicked over my body and then he’s there wrapping himself around me, that hard steel arm over my stomach, his naked skin against my naked skin.

 

“Good night Stiles,” is breathed into the nape of my neck and I lay awake for a good hour before I do fall asleep.  He might have promised not to push me but he’s certainly going to try and stack the odds in favour of the way he wants to go.


	49. Chapter 49

Weirdly Peter doesn’t do the seductive bits when I expect him to.  The shower seems to be off limits.  He’s just controlling and tries to get me to wear whatever he picks out for me in our wardrobe and then after that all bets are off.

 

He’ll be totally normal and I’ll start to relax and then bam, he’s all provocative and it’s never anything big, nothing I can put my finger on, just suddenly he’s something more and I tend to fall over my feet or drop things, and it’s a bit embarrassing but the werewolves sniff the air near me and smile knowingly.

 

Right now Peter is being helpful and bending over to pick something up, and somehow his ass is in front of me and the breadstick I was holding snaps audibly, and the bastard just gives me a look as one of the human guards snickers.

 

“I’d heard the Mating bond was strong, it’s nice to see some legends are true,” is all the guard says and he walks off to give us some privacy.

 

Privacy that Peter is very careful to behave in.  He’s like one of those old fashioned gentlemen, except he’s treating me as an equal, not some damsel that needs to be rescued.

 

I’m up to date on all my school assignments and Peter’s been checking the new websites, he likes them and now we’re sitting next to each other as he shows them off to me.  “And the external links still need to be finalized, but if this first property is anything to go by, I’m very impressed with our new website designer, she’s done an amazing job, don’t you agree?” He turns his head towards me and I rip my eyes away from the stunningly awesome website in front of me to get hit head on with bright blue eyes.

 

The way we’re sitting means he’s mere inches from me, and he’s doing the thing again, so my eyes are totally draw to his, and they’re so fucking blue.  This close I can see his mouth tip up into a smile, “Stiles?” And his voice is getting deeper even husky by the end of my name.  His lips are slightly open and his breath just touches my skin.

 

A very pink tip of his tongue slow slides around his lips and I follow the movement as my body tenses unsure of whether I should flee or stay.  My heart is starting to hammer in my chest and my stomach is knotting up again, my hands are beginning to sweat and I think I’m panting.

 

I can’t seem to stop staring at his mouth and I lick my own lips but then Peter moans softly, “God, Stiles, you drive me crazy,” that wrenches my eyes from his mouth up to his eyes and the pupils are wider than before and they’re getting wider as I watch.

 

He tips his head so his mouth and chin are held up almost like some kind of offering to me.  His eyelids droop and now the little bit of pupils that are still showing start to glow neon blue.

 

“Stiles,” It’s guttural and rough and I swallow loudly because I kind of want this and I kind of don’t want this.  I know he wants me to kiss him, that he’s going to keep trying to get me to kiss him, to get me to make the first move and I really don’t know how I feel about that.  I mean my dick is stirring, it’s kinda interested in this, and my mouth is so up for this, but I’m not totally sure and I bolt from Peter and race to our bathroom.

 

I don’t bother to close or bolt the door, that’s a pointless exercise. I just lean on the sink and when I look up into the mirror I can see that my own eyes are wide, that my cheeks are red and I can see that I really am panting.  I’m slightly hard too, my jeans tenting at the front.  My hands are shaking and nearly drop the wash cloth when I wet it and hold it against my burning face.

 

Listening for footsteps I wait for Peter to burst in but he doesn’t.

 

“He’s lurking near the bedroom door,” Scott says, “He’s not following you.  That’s not like him.”

 

And it really isn’t like him.

 

“Maybe he’s giving you space,” Allison leans into Scott, “He is trying to seduce you, so you need to go to him, not have him hound you.”

 

Also a valid point.

 

Pressing the cloth to the back of my neck I get myself under control and as much as I want to hide from Peter I won’t be able to for long, so I wander out and fake being unconcerned.  He’s back to sitting at the office desk and he smiles at me, “Better?”

 

“Yeah, thanks,” I nod to him and sit back down.

 

He carries on with the website like nothing happened, except he tones it down, he doesn’t push and damn it that actually works in his favour, my idiot imagination just replays the moment over and over and he doesn’t have to do anything.

 

I’m left to Skype my friends while Peter goes to cook our dinner and Aaron and co keep me distracted, they’re going sledding as often as they can and they send me video clips and photos.  It looks like fun and I can’t wait to get back to go out and play in the snow too.

 

Called down to dinner I have to say goodbye and then I bound down the stairs to go sit at the dining room table.  Peter’s made us some fish dish and normally I’m not a fan of fish, but damn he can cook, “God, Peter, this is amazing, thank you.”

 

“You’re more than welcome Stiles,” he beams at me pleased, he munches on his dinner and behaves the whole time.

 

Mr Williams joins us and starts giving us updates.  The trial started today and Joshua is pleading not guilty, all the werewolves heard him lie and now all they have to do is prove his guilt before they drag him out and make him vanish.

 

“Why not just kill him?” I ask Mr Williams, “You know he’s guilty, why go to the bother of holding a trial?” I could also say that most would see werewolves as animals, that many werewolves kill each other and no trials are held but I’m totally intrigued by this.

 

“Because of you,” Is all our lawyer says and I frown in confusion at him.  “Because you did not believe the Third Clan was guilty of the crime of harming you, you then proceeded to place your own life at risk to find the true culprits,” and yes that is kind of true but it was unintentional, I didn’t mean to astral project.

 

“We’re using this Trial as a test, if it works we’ll adopt it where we can,” He smiles at me, “Those like you are rare Stiles, you bring change, some times that makes things dangerous for a while but we all get a chance to really grow, to keep up with the human world around us.”

 

They’re holding a trial because of me?

 

Confused I glance at Peter who’s nodding, “Yes, Stiles does tend to make a habit of that, because of him I’m no longer just a revenge obsessed lunatic, Stiles has given me back my life, he’s an amazing human being,” Peter takes a bite of his dinner and he’s doing the seduction thing again because my eyes are glued to his mouth.

 

“I’m not…” I wasn’t enough for anyone in Beacon Hills, I was just a screw up, and then in Sacramento I was a victim.  Here Peter treats me like I’m truly special and he’s built me a special cage to keep me in, the werewolves here act like I’m special, hell even Marianne changed her tune and went from hating me because she wanted Peter to thinking I’m amazing.  Mr Williams seems to like me, and Richard is teaching me.

 

Shoving food in my mouth I eat in silence and then I go to our room.  Sitting on our bed I stare at my hands and I’m so fucking confused. Dream dad sits next to me, “Bottling it up isn’t going to work this time Stiles, let us help you, it’s why we’re here.”

 

Except I don’t know what the hell is going on in my life, I’m totally messed up inside and I don’t know anything anymore.  My life used to be me and mom and dad, then we got Scott and Melissa too.  I lost mom and things sort of worked in a fucked up way.  Then the werewolves came and I got totally lost, I was so sure of my life, of marrying Lydia, of our smart kids, of me staying home and being the mom and the wife, of Lydia conquering the world.

 

I thought I wanted certain things and now I don’t know what I want anymore, or what to think of it.  I did nothing in Beacon Hills except get people hurt or let them down.  In Sacramento I never got a chance to be anything but a punching bag on a good day.  Here I keep being told I’m everything, people want to talk to me, to be near me.  They’ve gone nuts to protect me and act like I’m doing them a favour when I let them.

 

My new home is good too.  My school is amazing, I’ve never wanted to go to school before, they don’t punish me for being ADHD, they take it into account and help me with it.  I have a group of friends that want to spend time with me and don’t care that I’m a dork, or that I blurt out crazy stuff.  I have somewhere I could spend the rest of my life and when I want more I have an entire city nearby, we could come on mini breaks to New York and spend time trying to see everything here.

 

No one has ever wanted to date me.  The kids in high school just laughed and thought I was some leprous idiot, I once joked that it was Scott dragging me down but really it was me dragging him down.  Lydia never once looked at me and when she did I was useful to her, nothing more, we might at a push have been acquaintances.  Danny thought I was crazy.  There were others I thought were funny or smart or cute, and they just saw Stiles Stilinski, idiot son of the Sheriff, not good enough for anyone.

 

Richard can’t save me from Peter, and from everything I’ve seen or heard so far the only one that can get away with killing Peter is me.  And I’m not ready.  But I’m also smart enough to know that by the time I’m ready I might not want to kill him, or escape him, because he might have upped his game recently to full on seduction for sexy times but he’s been seducing me with this new life for a while now.

 

Holy mother of god I might not be able to win this one, he might win, and I’ll stay with him for the rest of my life and have him keep me in a very pretty comfortable cage, all the time telling me how wonderful I am and how I’m everything to him.  He’ll value me and care for me and he might not be capable of real love anymore but I’m betting he can fake it really well.

 

Putting my head in my hands I sigh and for the first time I wonder if giving in to him is actually the right thing for me to do.


	50. Chapter 50

I get away with avoiding Peter for about a day, he doesn’t push, he lets me be by myself and then he sits next to me and puts his hand on my leg so I don’t invent an excuse and leave the office to escape him.

 

“Stiles, we need to talk.  Both the Defence and Prosecution have politely asked for us to testify against Eric.  They are aware of his obsession with me and have asked that I do my best to provoke a response from him.  They want me to be visually alluring.  They believe that if he’s innocent his interest in me will make him slip and not give anything away, while if he is guilty he’s going to make a mistake that they can use to prove his guilt.”

 

I’m being allowed out of the suite?  And yes I’m aware of the rest of what Peter’s said but I need to get out for a while, there’s nothing like running away from where you had a big light bulb moment to push it out of your mind.

 

“Aren’t they werewolves?” I point out, “Can’t they just listen to him lie?”

 

“A very good point, but they’re taking this trial very seriously and want overwhelming evidence to bury him with,” Peter twitches next to me, “At the moment the jury is happy to convict him so we don’t have to do anything.  He wrote some very detailed plans about what he wanted to do to you, he left me gifts, he was very clearly trying to come between a Mated pair, he’ll die for that.”

 

What?

 

“Um, Peter?  What’s he on trial for?” Because right now I’m fairly convinced it’s because he’s a serial killer but I’m beginning to think perhaps it’s for something else.

 

“For threatening a Mated pair and their bond,” Peter says it so calmly, “We’re so rare that anything that could even potentially destroy us will be stopped before it can, it’s one of the first Lores.  Eric has proved willing to keep trying to get my attention and make me leave you, that cannot be allowed, he’ll die for his crimes.”

 

Oh my god.

 

They’re seriously going to kill him for wanting to be Peter’s serial killer boyfriend, not for any of the other crimes he’s committed.  That is a seriously messed up thing and I stare at Peter in shock.

 

“Stiles,” he sighs, “We really do need to work on your self-esteem, I’m aware that the idiots in Beacon Hills couldn’t see you for what you are, but with only the slightest chance to shine you’re already proving yourself.”

 

“How am I proving myself Peter?” And I really want to know, because so far I’ve not really done a lot, or anything.

 

“Fine,” He takes his hand off my leg and swivels in the seat to look straight at me, “First you were born a Spark, that Spark is active, it’s allowing you to mimic being a werewolf, enough that you’re capable of Mating.  Mating is rare enough in Born or Bitten Werewolves that it should be impossible in humans, yet here you sit fully Mated to me.

 

“On top of that you have survived things that would destroy others, you’re still wounded, badly, but you’re alive, you’re a survivor” I swallow and wait for him to continue.  “You impressed the ghouls and they’ve lived long enough that they aren’t easily impressed.  You helped protect a terrible thing we won’t speak of, you also helped tidy up a whole town.  Straight after Martin’s attack you defied everyone to find the truth and you nearly died because of it.  So you are more than proving yourself Stiles.”

 

When he puts it like that, I do sound kind of awesome.

 

“Now do I have your permission to flaunt myself at Eric?” He asks it earnestly and his face is completely blank there are no tells to let me know which way he wants this to go.

 

“Stiles,” It’s my dream Derek, “Be careful, Peter’s heartbeat is elevated and he’s angry right now.”  He doesn’t look it, but then Peter is good at hiding it.

 

A few more members of my pack call out warnings, I’ve learnt to be very careful when that happens.  Taking my time I try and match up his past behaviour with our relationship, which only gives me one answer I can go with, “No, no I do not give you permission to flaunt yourself at Eric.” Putting my hand on Peter’s leg I add, “Mine.”

 

A huge smile breaks out on his face and he nods smugly, “I’ll tell them no then, they have enough to convict him without us giving testimonies.”

 

I still want out of the suite, “I don’t mind us doing that Peter, but no flaunting at other people and the damn v-necks of yours are not for public outings.”

 

He looks even more pleased and leans in towards me, “Oh Stiles, you might be unromantic and not into large public displays of affection but you certainly know how to mark your territory,” booping our noses he goes off to tell the werewolves to go to hell he’s all mine, whether I want him or not.

 

It also reinforces my understanding that I’m Mated and that comes with far more consequences than marriage, I’m not getting out of this without Peter dying, or me dying, and whoever kills either one of us is going to die a horrible death at the hands of the werewolves, maybe even the ghouls.

 

Distracting myself with messing around with our albums I get to see Peter bound back up the stairs and he hurries over to me, “Stiles, they’ve agreed we don’t need to go.  Eric will be sentenced in the next hour and if found guilty he’ll be dead in two hours.  Which means I’ve made a grocery list the hotel is fulfilling for us, and we have two hours to pack, then we can go home.”

 

“Home?” We can really go home?

 

“There’s nothing to stop us anymore, Klaus and his blood user are dead, and Eric will be soon,” he shrugs, “It’ll be nice to sleep in our own bed, to send you off to school smelling so happy and excited.  We can start our date nights too.  I can’t wait to cook in my kitchen, I’ve missed it.  There’s basketball to play, your dance classes to attend.  We need to arrange some therapy sessions if we can find anyone that’s good enough for you.  Richard wanted to teach you too.  And we’ll walk in the forest.  You need to have friends over and go to your friends’ houses too,” he’s getting excited and I laugh at him, “What?  We have the rest of our lives to live Stiles, I don’t want us to be forced to live in a hotel suite, no matter how nice it is.  Soon you’ll have college to go to, you’re going to love college Stiles,” he rambles on about things we can do and see, road trips we can take, holidays we can go on.

 

“I need to start packing,” he glances at his watch, “The sooner we start the sooner we can go,” and then he vanishes off into our bedroom.

 

Sitting there I can feel my throat tighten up and dream dad pops up beside me, “Stiles, breathe, just breathe,” I do, I breathe and calm myself down. Twisting so I look up at dad I feel a bit like a traitor because the life Peter’s describing really isn’t that bad.  “No it’s not,” dad agrees, “The only problem we have with it is that you didn’t get a chance to pick it, he forced you into it, he raped you and he enjoyed it, and you don’t love him.”

 

Derek flickers into view, “I don’t think he’s healthy for you, not in the long run,” he scrubs a hand over his face, “But then he has been treating you with more respect lately, he’s still trying to dominate you, to control you, and you are giving in to him and he’s also giving into you.” Shrugging his shoulders and then crossing his arms Derek gives me a pained look, “If you want to try and see if you two could have a relationship I won’t try and talk you out of it, but if he screws up, if he hurts you again I will not stop trying to convince you to leave him, and I’ll help you plan how to kill him.”

 

“We’ve been talking,” Lydia is filing her nails again, “We all agree that you’re stuck for now. That you need time to learn how to use your abilities.  And most importantly of all that Peter is trying to take care of you, he’s still abusive, but he’s learning not to be.  As long as he’s good to you we’ll include him in your Pack.”

 

Blinking in shock I see them all appear one by one, Scott smiles at me, “I wish you’d gone home when you had the chance bro, but you didn’t, so we’ll do everything we can to make you happy Stiles, even if it means supporting Peter. We don’t like him but we’ll accept him.  And don’t forget you can change your mind any time you want and we’ve got some ideas on how to kill him, we’re still working on how to keep you safe after that.”

 

“Thank you,” I mutter and I haven’t made up my mind just yet. I’m not ready to just give up, but I’m also not going to turn my back on what Peter’s offering either.

 

Getting up I wander into our room and help Peter pack up our things.  He’s right the sooner we start the faster we’ll be done.  I watch him methodically put things into our cases, and then have to sit on them because he’s bought way too many clothes.  He’s happy, he hums, he talks about things for us to do in Wolf Creek, occasionally he strikes a provocative pose or bends in certain ways and my mouth goes dry. 

 

I can’t believe this is the same man that Bit Scott, that chased us through the school, that crouched over Lydia, that made me help him find Derek.  He’s making plans to go shopping with Aaron’s mom, to have coffee meetings, to expand our business and employ more people.

 

Carrying some things for him I put them on the bed and then get sent back to start clearing out the bathroom.  He’s checking everywhere to make sure he doesn’t leave anything behind.  It kind of reminds me of our first hotel in Salt Lake City, I was so afraid of him then, of what he would do to me.  I can’t help but wonder what our first homecoming would have been like if Marianne had let us complete our road trip, would he have been even more invested in me then? Could I have talked him out of raping me?  Could we really be at the point where I’d be kissing him and learning how to top him?

 

Two hours later we’re told Eric is dead, I’m not surprised and I’m not really that upset, he was a true monster, and he wanted Peter to teach him how to be a better monster.  I get to see Peter thank Mr Williams, the werewolves and the human guards, I get to see him smile at me and I don’t see a monster, oh he’s more than capable of being one, but he’s not Martin, he’s not Eric, he’s just Peter.

 

Now I have to work out if I want to spend the rest of my life with Peter.  Hopping up into our Hummer I put my seatbelt on and settle in for the drive home.  I’m excited about going home, and I’m excited about the plans that Peter’s been talking about.  We’ll have to wait and see what life holds for us, I have time to choose whether to stay or go, until then I’ll enjoy some peace and quiet, let myself heal some more, I think I’m due some time to relax and just be a teen, admittedly a married teen, but still a teen.

 

Peter winds his way through the city and New York eventually falls away behind us to be replaced with slowly rising land and the snow here is deeper.  It won’t be long now and I bury myself in the iPad so I won’t distract Peter while he’s driving.

 

We make it safely home and in one piece, the now familiar shape of our house in front of us and it really does feel like I’m coming home. I bounce out of the Hummer and open the door to our house.  It looks the same as when we left it, I know Peter asked Aaron’s family to come keep an eye on it while we were away and they took good care of it.  Leaving Peter to struggle with the heavy overfull bags I go and grab the groceries, I put them away and make us some instant hot chocolate, then I sprinkle the mugs with little marshmallows.

 

Sipping mine, I carry Peter’s through to the bedroom where he’s glaring at our luxuriously large built in wardrobes.  There’s no way all his new clothes are gonna fit in there, “Here,” I hold the mug out to him.

 

“Thank you,” he absently sips at the hot beverage and keeps glaring at the offending wardrobes.

 

“You know that joke about you and basements isn’t sounding so outrageous right now, only it’d be full of your clothes and not dismembered bodies and rats,” I point out to be funny.

 

“Perhaps,” is all he says, “It’s a little drastic but it’s doable, or I could keep some of this in storage and swap them around monthly,” he sighs, “Maybe I should have bought us a bigger house.”

 

“Maybe, but I like this one, it’s comfy,” I tell him and he turns to smile at me.

 

“I’m glad you like it Stiles, it is good isn’t it,” He’s being smug again, “Now I just have to work out how to fit my clothes into it.”  It startles a laugh out of me and I move closer to sling an arm around him.

 

“We’ll work it out Peter, somehow we’ll work it out,” I pat his shoulder and his arm snakes around my waist as we stare at the wardrobe together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, for all the kudos and the comments. Sorry I haven't replied back work has been stupidly busy and I've simply not had time (not that I'm any good at replying anyway). I hope you've enjoyed this part and it seems Peter is well on his way to seducing our little Stiles, and yes there is more to come.
> 
> cheers  
> GP13

**Author's Note:**

> And deep abiding thanks to Seraphim-Grace for her help with my ultimate end game, *smiles evilly*.


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